


Post Blue

by ChaseAwayMyFears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-11 22:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaseAwayMyFears/pseuds/ChaseAwayMyFears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius Malfoy can't cope anymore. All he wants is to be happy. He wants Al to help him get there, and Albus seems willing, but how far is he really willing to go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He looked pensively into the basin, watching the water swirl down the drain. He gritted his teeth, and grasped the sink so hard his knuckles turned white. His eyes flickered to the cupboard on the wall above the porcelain, and he caught sight of himself. His face was gaunt and hollow; his usual bright eyes were empty, lifeless. His entire face seemed weathered and languished and cracked. He looked fragile to his own eyes, so goodness knows what others thought of him.

'I don't care what others think of me. And I care too much,' he thought. His old self would've rolled his eyes if he'd heard something so paltry; not now. He didn't have the energy to be so sarcastic all the time. That in itself was paltry.

The boy sighed, opened the cupboard, removed a bottle of pills, and set them on the counter. He stared at them as hard as his mind would allow. He willed them to vanish, to catch alight, to melt into nothing. But they just sat there, inanimate. It was, after all, just a bottle of pills. But to the man, they were so much more; they were a life force and a poison. They made him think straight and they clouded his judgement. They were a nasty piece of work. Or, so he thought they were.

After a few minutes, it became apparent that the pills were not, contrary to the man's thoughts, about to leap off of the counter and strangle him to death. What a ludicrous idea.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pills were put into a bag upon the man's shoulder, and carried out of the bathroom, and taken wherever the man went.

The man with the white blond hair and the hollow eyes walked into a grand room – a hall, really – and was greeted with hundreds of pairs of eyes flickering in his direction. He blinked once and made a beeline for his usual table, his usual seat and his usual group of allies. On any normal day, he would've smiled and greeted his friends, he would've joked about their parents and their how love never prevailed, and he would've tried to kiss Al again, but it wasn't a normal day. There hadn't been a normal day in quite some time.

As he stared introspectively into his drink, he felt someone nudge him in the ribs and heard the whisper of 'Smile, misery guts'. He recognized the voice of his best friend and the person he admired the most, yet he seemed far away. He could hear the collective buzz of numerous conversations and the scuffle of feet as people left the Great Hall, but he didn't feel like he was a part of it; it was like an out-of-body experience.

He also felt the tug on his arm, almost being pulled completely off of the bench and onto the floor when Al and Rosie were leaving. 'Score, c'mon, man. We've got to go to Potions soon or Slughorn is going to kill us.'

'I'm a Malfoy, Al. Everyone wants to kill me, whether they know it or not.' The man called Score by his friends mumbled, clambering off of the bench to stand beside his two best friends.

'Well, come on, then!' Rosie started, walking off towards the Dungeons at high speed. Albus raised his brows, and looked at his friend. He smiled, and received a minute twitch of lips in return.

Suddenly, he felt hands on his back, pushing him forwards. He protested weakly, but the hands moved to his upper arms, clasping tightly, manoeuvring him towards their Potions class. 'Al, what are you doing? I can walk on my own. My legs do function properly,' sounded Score's monotonous protests. There was no life behind his voice, no zest. He barely noticed anymore. He barely noticed anything anymore. Not the color in the leaves or the smell of the feasts or all the shades of green in Al's eyes. He rarely looked into them anymore. It was on a rare occasion he spent time with Al and Rosie; he was always holed up in the dorm, curtains closed, silencing charms cast.

The finally reached Slughorn's class, and walked through the door, muttering apologies. 'Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.' Both boys flinched at the used of their full names. 'How wonderful of you to finally turn up for class, boys.' They shuffled over to Rosie, frowning.

'How did you get here on time?' whispered Albus, voice almost demanding.

'I don't dawdle. Nor do I stand around in corners eating face.' Rosie smirked, laughing as Al hit her. Scorpius would've laughed, would've joined in had he not been in his own world. Instead, he sat motionless, staring into space. He was knocked from his thoughts by a hand squeezing his knee, and a whisper in his ear.

'Score, what's the matter? You've been in a shit mood for weeks. How many times are you going to do this?' Al sounded concerned, but the blond couldn't miss the hint of annoyance, either.

He looked at his best friend, and frowned. 'What do you mean? I'm fine.' He gave a small, non-reassuring smile, and turned back to face Slughorn. He heard the mutter of 'No, you're not' and grimaced. He could feel his patience slipping away like water through his fingertips. He gritted his teeth, hoping he'd stay calm and Al wouldn't provoke him further. He felt the the thumb of the hand occupying his knee move in slow circles – between Albus and Scorpius, this was a perfectly normal occurrence, there was nothing sexual about it, just comforting. Amazingly, Scorpius began to calm down. He looked into emerald eyes, a small smile on his face. Albus didn't miss the devastating sadness behind it.

'Scorpius Malfoy,' he whispered into the blond boy's ear. The voice was warm and affectionate, but filled with concern also. 'You … I … What's wrong?' the raven haired boy asked once more, a frown upon his usually smiling face. Score stifled a sigh. He placed a hand over the one on his knee. From the corner of his eye he saw Rosie whisper something to Al, and saw him shake his head. Both Rosie and Al's faces were a picture of worry; Scorpius simply shook his head.

'Seriously, Scorpius,' said Rosie, shaking her own head, brow furrowed. What on Earth is wrong? Is it your father? Do you miss Astoria? Is it-'

'No, Rose! It's none of those things; just drop it, would you?' He ripped his hand away from Al's, picking up his bag and storming out of the classroom, ignoring the shouts from Slughorn of 'Mr Malfoy! Where are you- GET BACK HERE!' and cries from his friends of 'Scorp- Where are you going?' and cheers from the other Slytherin's – no one ever walked out of class.

After a few seconds, he heard footsteps behind him; he ignored them also, and continued walking. He had no choice but to stop, however, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, thinking it was Slughorn, but when he turned, to his relief, it was Al.

Then his heart flipped and his face twisted into a look of hurt and annoyance. 'I said drop it, Potter.' He felt his hear wrench as Al's surname stumbled from his lips. He almost leapt forward and took Al in his arms when he saw the other boy's beautiful emerald eyes cloud with pain and his face flush with embarrassment and, Score assumed, anger, too.

Almost.

He didn't, though. He just stood there, seething.

'Please, Score. Please…' Albus whispered. Scorpius could hear the plea in his voice. He blinked. He wished he could be warmer towards his friends – towards everyone. He wasn't usually this snarky, but he was fed up of people asking him what was wrong. He was fed up of ignoring his friends. He was fed up of being fed up.

'Is it… Is it your father?'

'No! It's not my fucking father!' he shouted, a little louder than necessary.

'So who, then? You're pissed at someone. If it was a what, you would've told me! I know you!' the middle Potter cried, his voice breaking with emotion.

'You! It's you… It's always been you…' Score snapped, though he wasn't sure what he was confessing to anymore. It was a lie; his troubles didn't lie with Albus, per se. But there was some truth behind his words.

All, however, didn't pick up on the double meaning. He looked like he had been Stupefied. His eyes glistened with unshed tears; he just stared at his best friend.

'What did I do?' The first tear fell, and Scorpius' heart shattered. He finally pulled Albus into his arms and held him tight. Although he was so close to another person, holding him in an affectionate manner, still he felt so alone.

After a few moments, Albus looked up into Score's face. His silver gray eyes were not focused on him; they were gazing out of the nearest window.

Al knew he shouldn't push it; he knew how short the Malfoy's patience was, but he couldn't help it. 'What did I do?' he whispered once more, afraid that he would once again, be left alone, or be yelled at, or both.

He reprimanded himself when he felt Score tense in his arms, expecting to be shoved away. Al finally relaxed a little, melting into the embrace. It was then he felt the slight pressure of lips against his hair. He barely heard the whisper of 'Be there'. The Potter frowned again, looking once more into the face of Scorpius. The eyes were still trained on the window.

'I'll always be here.'

Scorpius smiled sadly, 'I know.'

Al's frown deepened. 'Please, Score. You'll break my heart in a minute! What's wrong? Please, would you tell me? Do I need to get on my knees and beg? Because I will. I'll beg until I run out of breath and till I can no longer speak, and then I'll continue begging. I'll stay on my knees for you until you confide in me. You can trust me! You know you can! Just… please, Score. Please.' Tears that he thought had stopped dripped from his chin. He drew in a ragged breath, gazing up at the Slytherin, at his own tear streaked face and puffy red eyes. 'Please…' he started one last time, but quickly gave up, far too exhausted to.

Already they had been stood in the hall for nigh on 20 minutes, but still they stood in each other's arms, tears slowly stopping as the rain stopped pouring.

'We should probably go back to class…' Al muttered, tightening his hold around Score's waist.

'Hmm...' Score mumbled against his friend's hair. Albus made to move away, walking back towards the classroom, but the blond caught his hand, pulling him back to him, chests pressed together. A look of shock overcame Al's features as his friend's hands moved to caress his cheeks. The look of pure despair and sadness on Score's face almost knocked the air from Al's lungs.

Before he had any time to think a comforting thought, lips were brushing against his, so gentle, so soft. A small squeak of surprise escaped him, but he reciprocated, moving his lips slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to do - he'd never been kissed before; sure, everyone thought he and Score were an item, and they joked around a lot, but they had never done anything – and his eyelids fluttered shut. A warm feeling spread though his body, starting in his stomach and stretching to the tips of his fingers and toes, like all of the butterflies in his stomach had burst free and filled his entire body.

The hands on his cheeks moved up into his hair, and a tongue ran across his bottom lip. He gasped, which Score took as an invitation and slipped his tongue in the other boy's mouth.

Albus was on the verge of panicking; his best friend was kissing him, their tongues were caressing – there's no other word for it – each other's and it was all moving far too fast. Albus' mind was reeling, yet all he could feel was the hands in his hair, massaging his scalp, and the tongue in his mouth, the gentleness of the kiss and the barely masked desperation. It was all he could do not to melt into a puddle on the floor.

It felt like an eternity before they moved apart. Scorpius had a large smile stretching across his face, a genuine smile, something that no one had seen in a fair few weeks. He kept his eyes closed, and rested his forehead against Al's. Al's breath was quick and shallow, and his eyes were glittering, not with tears this time, but with something completely different – wonderment?

'Wow…' he whispered.

'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.' Score mumbled.

'What? You…'

'Oh. Shit. I said that aloud, didn't I?'

'Yes. You did.' Albus gazed at his best friend with a look of confusion and awe and shock and contentment.

'Oh.' It was all he said, all he was able to say, before the bell sounded for the end of first lesson; a warning that students were, very soon, going to be flooding the corridors. Rosie, and the rest of their Potions class would be out very soon, yet the two boys were in each other's arms, unmoving.

'Score, I-'

'No! Please, Al! Please, don't leave me!' Score's face twisted into a look of pure terror and desperation. He didn't care that he wasn't acting like a Malfoy was expected to act. That didn't matter anymore. He clutched Al's robes, endless pleas tumbling from his lips. 'Please; please Al. Please, don't leave me now,' he repeated. Al was terrified; Score had never been like this before.

The young Malfoy was desperately pressing his lips to Al's again, not in a passionate or caring manner, but in desperation; he was truly scared. When Al didn't react but tried to remove him from his person, Score tried harder, using his strength to keep from being forced away, but finally, when the halls became too crowded to move, Score relented, on the verge of hyperventilating. Tears were streaming from his eyes. No one else seemed to notice, or just didn't care.

'I … I … Al, I'm so sorry…' he stuttered and hiccupped, barely able to be heard over the ruckus of students shuffling to their classes.

'Score! Al! What have you- Score! What on earth has happened?' Rosie's voice rang through the now half empty hall, and Scorpius' head whipped up, wiping his face. He looked at Al one last time, sobbed an apology and fled, heading towards the common room.


	2. Chapter Two

Scorpius was laid on his bed, inspecting the bottle of pills that had taunted him so.

The bottle was a clear plastic, containing around 20 small capsules, each half red, half white, each able to lift a mood from the deepest depths of oblivion.

The boy sighed. He sat up, groaning with the effort. He popped the cap off of the bottle and stared at the pills. He tipped one into his hand, refraining from emptying the entire contents into his palm and inspected it, before placing it onto his tongue, conjuring a bottle of water to help it go down.

For one, terrible second it got stuck in his throat, stopping his breathing, making him choke. After another swig of water, however, it dislodged itself, causing him to gasp for air.

He sat on his bed, expecting birds to be singing and rainbows to protrude from his arse, but he still felt like going and throwing himself off of the Astronomy Tower. ping his breathing, making him choke. After another swig of water, however, it dislodged itself, causing him to gasp for air.

He sat on his bed, expecting birds to be singing and rainbows to protrude from his arse, but he still felt like going and throwing himself off of the Astronomy Tower.

Frowning he re-capped the so-called happy pills and threw the bottle across the dorm. He then cast a Tempus charm; it showed that it was 5:30. He cursed; only half an hour till dinner. He'd been in the dorm room for hours! Why had no-one come to find him? Why had Al not come to find him?

Maybe he didn't want to. You did ambush him. In the middle of public, no less. You, a Malfoy, acted rashly and stupidly and you probably freaked the poor boy out. He doesn't want to see you. You left him! You left him alone and confused and scared. You almost outed him! It's disgraceful. Anyone could have seen! Do you blame him for avoiding you?

Scorpius frowned, his heart aching. His thoughts – the thoughts that had troubled him for months – were right, as the usually were.

Who was he to force himself onto Albus? He really was disgraceful. Disgraceful and rude and dishonourable.

After another Tempus charm – which revealed ten minutes, now, till dinner – he headed for the shower.

…

…

Clean, clothed and comfortable, Scorpius waltzed into the Great Hall, head held slightly higher than usual, a smile – though it was small and didn't reach his eyes, but a smile nonetheless – on his face.

Halfway to the Slytherin table, he heard Rosie's call of his name and saw Al waving his arms around frantically. Score's heart soared; Al wasn't ignoring him!

These pills are great, he thought. It was more than he expected. He was expecting a small change, feeling slightly better, not wanting to never wake up again, something paltry. Not to be smiling. He knew the pills didn't work to their full effect after one, but compared to the Muggle brands he'd heard of, these were working wonders. In a few weeks, he thought, I'll be feeling great; on top of the world! And Al not ignoring him had made everything perfect.

Of course, for Scorpius Malfoy nothing was perfect for long.

As soon as he sat in his usual seat between Al and Rosie and amongst his other friends, question after question was shot at him.

'Scorpius, where were you?'

'Score, why'd you run off?'

'Yeah, Malfoy, we were worried!'

'Do you know how much education you've missed?'

That last one make him chuckle. 'Dorm room. I needed space,' he looked at Al briefly, 'You had no need to worry; I'm fine. And about 5 lessons worth, Rosie, but I'm sure you'll make me catch up,' he winked at her. She just rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide the grin.

Maybe things really are looking up, he thought, still smiling. He looked at Albus then, to see him frowning, and the smile was ripped from his face, his heart dropping to his feet. Or maybe not.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, knowing Al would hear. He heard the boy sigh, as if giving up an internal battle, and felt his hand being grabbed under the table. A small smile appeared on Al's lips, causing Score's heart to soar once more.

He turned back to the food, he dished up chicken and vegetables, his heart singing, elated that Al wasn't mad with him.

After dinner and back in the common room, Rosie was lecturing Score and Al for missing lessons. Score got an extra dose of Weasley-Wrath for missing the entire day – including lunch; Score just nodded along. Al's hand was still in his and he felt like he was walking on clouds. If only he could ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him that what goes up, must come down.

But for now, everything was well; he still had his friends, and most importantly, he still had Al's closeness, whether it meant quite the same to the other boy or not, he still had him.

Once Rosie had stopped berating the pair, she invited them to a game of Exploding Snap, of which they daren't decline in fear of being yelled at again.

…

…

Score cast a Tempus charm. The glowing numbers read 03:11. He sighed and rolled over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling again. There were 945 notches on the ceiling in the space above his bed. He could take over the world with that information!

For the thousandth time, he sighed, and once again rolled over. The bottle of pills lay in his trunk and Al was on the other side of the room, fast asleep, probably dreaming of girls, or Quidditch or girls playing Quidditch. Score has never been so envious; what he would give to sleep. Casting a slumber charm would be futile; he'd already tried. Counting Hippogriffs didn't work wither; it just made him feel foolish.

In the end he swung his legs over the side of his bed, standing on shaking legs, and tip-toed over to Al's bed. The hangings were pulled, but there was a small crack, of which Scorpius peered through.

It was dark, but he could see the dark hair splayed across the green pillow. It looked atrociously cute. With a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes, he stepped back from his friend's bed. He stood for a few seconds, deliberating whether to go back to bed. In the end, however, he he decided to go down to the common room. 'It'll make Rosie happy if I catch up on work missed…' he muttered.

…

…

Slumped on one of the sofas, books piled by his feet, crumpled paper littering the floor, Scorpius slept, though not for long.

A persistent tapping on one of the high windows broke through his sleeping state, making him stir. His eyes flicked open, a scowl forming on his face as the tapping continued.

He flicked his wand, making the window open, and in flew a large eagle owl – A Malfoy owl – carrying a letter in its beak. The owl circled the dorm before dropping the letter in Score's lap, and then swooped out of the window and back into the dawn.

A quick look at the clock told him that he has slept for only 2 hours. With a groan he turned his attention back to the letter. It had the elegant hand of his father on the envelope, addressed to one Scorpius Malfoy. Of course; who else would Father be writing to?

He tore the letter open, his blood running cold.

Oh, this was not good.


	3. Chapter Three

Scorpius sat on the sofa, staring at words on parchment, wanting to cry and scream and shout and run away, but he just sat, feeling numb. It was uncouth of a Malfoy to scream and show that much weakness. Of course, Father hadn't told him this; it had been Mother and Grandfather that had drilled it into his brain. With a ragged sigh, he read through the letter one last time:

Dearest Scorpius,

I am writing to tell you that I will be at Hogwarts in two days' time. I must discuss matters with McGonagall regarding your Mother's and my divorce. My sincerest apologies to burden you again with this, but I would also wish to see you. Perhaps you could meet me outside the headmistress' office at seven o' clock?

I would like to see you, Scorpius.

I am so very sorry.

-Father.

Scorpius dearly missed his father. He did; but he didn't want to talk about how is family was falling apart right before his eyes. He didn't want to talk about how Mother had lied or how he had frequently heard his Father crying in his rooms when he thought the Manor was void of any other person. He didn't want to talk about how he was feeling and he certainly didn't want to talk about who he wanted to live with. He wanted to live with his mother and father. He wanted them to stay together. For Merlin's sake, he wanted his family to stay together!

It wasn't fair. Why was nothing fair?

'Scorpius?' he heard a soft yawn from the other side of the room, nearest the stairs to the dorms. Scorpius gasped; he thought he was alone. How long had he been sat contemplating for? A glance at the clock told him he'd been awake for almost an hour. Another call of his name had him looking up at whoever was stood by the door. Of course it was Albus.

'Al, what are you doing awake?' he asked, feigning a yawn.

Albus' smiled a lopsided grin. 'Could ask you the same thing, mate.' He glanced around the room, taking in the screwed up paper balls and text books lying everywhere. 'Been having a bit of cram studying without me?' he pulled a face of mock hurt, which was broke with a wide yawn.

Scorpius chuckled, patting the seat beside him. 'Something like that.' When Al sat beside him, Score put him arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He felt Al tense for a fraction of a second, but then he relaxed again.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Score's lips.

'So, whataya doing?' Al mumbled.

Score's expressions hardened when he thought of the letter his father had sent him, and he was thankful Al couldn't see. He made himself relax before saying, 'Oh, y' know; Trying to do some catching up for yesterday in fear of Rosie hexing me.' He felt Al chuckle.

Scorpius sighed heavily, then. Closing his eyes and resting his cheek on the other boy's hair.

'Al?' Scorpius whispered after a few minutes. He could feel the Potter shaking against him. 'Al, what's wrong?' he asked.

It was then that Albus looked up at him, face bright red, emerald eyes swimming, bottom lip quivering.

'Oh, Al! What's wrong?' Score asked, half shocked. Al looked exactly how Scorpius felt.

'I'm just…I'm…' He mumbled. 'I'm just so worried about you!'

The Malfoy's expression hardened once more, but he hid it by pulling Al close again and kissing his hair. 'I told you; I'm fine. Peachy keen.' He grimaced at the phrase. Al just sighed shakily.

After a few minutes, however, the other boy stopped sobbing and hiccupping and just sat, cuddling his friend.

'C'mon Albus, we'd better start getting ready for classes. I for one certainly need a shower.'

'Yeah you do,' Al said weakly, though a grin formed on his face. 'You stink!'

Scorpius slapped him playfully on the arm before dumping him on the floor. 'Git!' he laughed.

Albus landed with an oomph and scowled. 'Hey! Who are you calling a git?' he exclaimed, before grinning again. 'C'mon then, Blondie. Let's get your ass in that shower.'

Scorpius blushed a little, but snickered all the same. 'You're not joining me!'

…

…

Scorpius was sat in History of Magic going over the letter from his father again. This was the one class where he didn't have any friends in to pry; 'only nerds and suck ups take History of Magic' according to James Potter, Albus' older brother. That seemed true enough, looking around the class, but Scorpius happened to like History of Magic, and he certainly wasn't a suck up.

His head was pounding and Professor Binns was droning on about something Score already knew about. He couldn't stop thinking about how tomorrow he was going to be seeing his father and being harassed about how he felt about the divorce.

He sighed heavily, laying his head in his arms upon the desk.

'Mister Malfoy! If you would please listen!' Binns reprimanded.

Scorpius made a noise of protest – no one else was listening! Half of them were asleep! – but sat up straight and took notes, regardless to how much he knew. He couldn't be doing with a detention now.

…

…

He stood clutching the sink, staring into the mirror, the bottle of pills stood on the edge. He had a strange sense of déjà vu, but it was repressed at the back of his mind. He stared into his empty eyes once more. He could take another pill, and feel great again, but he didn't know if he could cope with this drop. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to said pills. He scrunched his face up, willing himself not to cry. What was wrong with him? He inhaled sharply before slamming his fish into the mirror.

He gasped at the sudden pain in his knuckles, but otherwise he didn't react. He stared at the blood slowly dripping down his hand, a small, morbid smile gracing his face. Well, at least I'm real, he thought.

He expected the pain to be unbearable, but it was only a dull throb. He sighed, washing the blood down the sink, watching it swirl down the plug hole. Seven years bad luck for me. Oh, joy.

When all the blood had gone from both his knuckles and the sink, he headed to dinner, but not before pocketing the pills again, without taking any.

When he sat down five minutes later, Al and Rose made another fuss over him.

'How was your day, Scorpius?'

'Did you do all your homework, Scorpius?'

'Did you piss off any more teachers, Scorpius?'

'Scorpius?' Rosie screeched, knocking him from his thoughts.

'Argh! What?' he half-shouted.

Rosie was sat, eyebrows raised, looking miffed, whilst the rest of the table – minus Albus – was smirking and sniggering. Al was frowning in concern again.

'Score, what on earth have you done to your hand?' Rosie asked, voice still harsh, thought it had undertones of concern. She roughly grabbed his hand, but he didn't wince in pain. He didn't feel the pain anymore.

'I uh, I fell over.' He lied.

'Fell over, my arse!'

'No, actually, I fell over my feet.' Scorpius smirked. Everyone, including Albus, snickered, too. Everyone, that is, except Rosie. She was still scowling.

'Scorpius, please what is the matter?'

The Malfoy groaned, 'Please don't start again.'

'Please-'

'No! Do not start again!' he shouted, causing the entire Great Hall to go silent. Cheeks burning, he stood up and stalked out of the Hall, Albus on his heels.

'Score? Scorpius! Please, wait!' the boy called. Scorpius' stumbled to a halt and waited for Albus to catch up. 'Scorpius, I'm sorry. I didn't know she'd go off on one again.'

The blond shook his head. 'You weren't to know… You know, I –' he was cut off by a pair of soft, warm lips attached to his own, kissing him rather frantically, as if trying to get him to shut up and calm down all at the same time.

He pulled back, wide eyed. 'You…' Albus looked just as shocked as Scorpius, and turned to run, but Al grabbed his wrist. 'No! Don't leave!' Score said, his voice pleading and desperate. It reminded Al of the scene outside potions two days ago.

Albus sighed and turned back around to face Score, eyes on the floor. 'Scorpius, I –' he started, his voice being cut of in an embrace. Al melted into the hug, a tiny smile forming on his lips. He was dearly worried about Scorpius; you don't get cuts on your hand like that by falling over. Add to the fact that he went from angry to extremely happy to depressed back to angry again made him know something wasn't right. But he didn't want to push him. He sighed heavily, pulling out of the embrace.

'Albus, I know I –' Scorpius tried again. And once again he was cut off by another kiss. He groaned, and tried to speak once more, and this time Albus interrupted by speech.

'Would you please stop talking? I'm trying to cheer you up.' Al scolded, though the glitter in his eyes and the smile on his face softened the look altogether. Scorpius just raised a brow.

'But Al, you've never shown any interest in… well… in me.' Score muttered.

'I haven't shown it, no.' Al's face burned, but the glitter in his eyes persisted.

Scorpius' heart soared. 'I…You…I…Hn.' He was speechless. So instead of saying anything, he kissed Al again, with more passion and fervour.

…

…

Together, Albus and Scorpius walked hand in hand into the Slytherin common room. They were shivering because of the coldness of the dungeons, but their spirits were high, nonetheless. All thoughts of his father had been squashed into a corner of Score's mind, to be dealt with later.

Smiling they sat on one of the many sofas, grinning at Rosie of whom was staring at the pair, eye brows raised. 'And what is going on here?' she asked, lips twitching in knowing amusement. She had been on the brunt of both boys' deep heart-felt talks about one another.

'Oh, y' know. This and that.' Score grinned.

'So I see.' She grinned back.

…

…

After sharing a kiss goodnight, Al and Score retreated to their own beds. They weren't an item yet, they had just shared a few kisses and had feeling for each other; it was… well, no it wasn't the 'done' thing, but they weren't a normal pair. They were the sons of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy; Saviour of the Wizarding World and renowned ex-Death Eater-turned-Light. They were practically famous.

On the topic of Draco Malfoy, his son had been lying awake for hours running through every possible thing that could be asked or said and how he would handle it without flying off the broomstick.

Once he finally drifted into a fitful sleep, he tossed and turned, dreaming of his family being literally torn apart and never being able to see his mother again.

In his classes he was distracted and wouldn't respond to his friends. He drifted through the day and didn't eat much at breakfast or lunch.

When dinner finally rolled around at six o' clock that evening, he was on edge, and Rosie had had enough. 'Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!' she demanded. He winced at the use of his full name, finally looking up at her.

'Hm?'

''Hm'? 'HM'? Is that all you have to say for yourself? You've been withdrawn all freaking day. Mister! Don't you dare shrug it off with a grunt; It's not decent!'

'What would you know about decent?' he shouted, not meaning a word he said. Rosie just sat there, wide eyed, as if she'd been slapped. 'Rosie I'm sorry… I really am. I didn't mean that.' The Weasleys and their financial issues were never brought up by anyone. Sure, they were much better off now they were known better, but they were still classified as blood traitors by many and still seen as disgraceful.

'Don't worry about it, Scorpius,' she ground out with a tight smile. Everyone around them was still gawping, though.

He looked at the clock and sighed. 'I have to go,' he muttered, sending an overly apologetic look in Rose's direction, and kissed Al on the cheek, disguised from the rest of the houses by looking as though he was whispering something to his best friend. 'I'll see you later,' he said to the rest of his friends before going to wait outside McGonagall's office for his father.


	4. Chapter Four

Scorpius stood in the hallway near the gargoyle for what seemed like hours, but was only about 10 minutes. His father was late; seven o' clock was the agreed time. His father was never late for anything. This meant whatever he and McGonagall were discussing, it couldn't be good.

After the third Tempus charm in ten minutes, Scorpius sighed, and began to walk away, back to the dungeons, when he heard the staircase grind into motion. He stood stock still, back still turned, and waited. After a few seconds he heard the call of 'Scorpius!' from his father.

Slowly turning, he saw that his father looked rather haggard, despite his desperate attempts at looking formal and immaculate; Scorpius could always tell. It was impertinent of a son not to greet his father, but Scorpius was wary nonetheless. However, he walked slowly towards his father's outstretched arms and stepped into them cautiously.

'Oh, son. I've missed you.' Draco's voice, though he tried to keep it steady, wavered only slightly. It was this crack, however, that made Scorpius relax in his father's arms.

'Father! I missed you too. I…' he trailed away, unable to think of what to say. He would not cry. He would not cry. He remembered he hadn't taken any happy pills recently, and he was suffering. He was in an awful mood, and it kept fluctuating. He thought of Albus and his heart soared, fit to bust from his chest, but he thought of his mother and father and their situation and wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and die. He thought of the numbness he felt any other time and he just felt cold, unfeeling.

Right now, however, in his father's arms, he could feel. He didn't know what he could feel, but it was certainly better than nothing. He wanted nothing more than for his father to tell him everything was going to be fine, that he and Astoria were going to be fine. But, of course they were not going to be fine. Divorce was not fine.

He hugged his father tightly, not wanting to let go.

'Scorpius, we need to talk,' Draco finally said, extracting his son from his robes. When Scorpius wouldn't let go, Draco's voice turned stern. 'Scorpius, you are sixteen, not six. Now, let go of my robes and act as a Malfoy heir would act.' Scorpius sobered immediately, letting go, and taking a step away from Draco.

'I am sorry, Father,' he said, voice wavering, eyes not meeting his father's gaze.

Draco nodded. 'Now,' he said, looking around. 'We need somewhere where we can talk. McGonagall said it is fine to use her office; she has things to do. Come, Scorpius. We must discuss this.'

Nodding sullenly and dragging his feet, he followed his father back up the moving staircase. When in the Headmistress' office, he slumped in one of the chairs, devoid of energy. His father stood beside him, casting worried glances at his son. He did not, however comment; he knew this must be hard on him.

'It's final, isn't it? You and Mother, I mean?' Scorpius muttered, still unable to look at his father.

'Yes, it is. I'm sorry.' Scorpius stood suddenly, startling his father, though he masked it almost immediately. 'Son…' he hesitated, not knowing how Scorpius would react; he was not himself as it was.

Shaking his head, trying to hold himself together, he stumbled to the door.

'Scorpius! Please, we must talk about this.' Draco called.

Scorpius whirled on him. 'I don't want to talk about it! I don't want to… I don't want to know how Mother is a lying bitch and how she broke your heart! I don't want to know how this family has fallen apart! I don't want to know that she's left you and I alone. I need a mother! I need Albus! I need my family!' he ignored his father's reprimands for swearing and the downright stupefied look for his confession of needing Potter's child. It had slipped his mind to tell his father about that small fact. They weren't an item; there was nothing to tell, he reminded himself.

Or, he would've reminded himself, had he not collapsed in tears in the doorway, trying to shrug his father off of him. He did not need consoling. He was a Malfoy, goddamnit.

But his father was not scolding him. He was rubbing his back in a comforting manner; never had Draco acted so…fatherly. Never had he been so worried, either. 'Scorpius…'

'No!' the boy suddenly shouted, once again startling his father, and had also shocked himself out of crying. 'I don't want to fucking talk about it!' And with that, he untangled himself from his father's embrace, and ran.

…

…

It had been two days since Scorpius' father had graced to halls of Hogwarts with his presence. It had been two days since Scorpius had gone to class, gotten out of bed. He had barely eaten, and he certainly hadn't slept. He was a mess.

Every time Al or Rosie tried to talk to him he would shout and scream until they left, and then he would cry. He would scream into his pillow and curse his parents and the skies and Merlin. He would fly into a rage over nothing, hurling things about the dorm room, shouting until his throat was raw.

But right now, he was calm. He was sat in his bed, bed hangings closed, secure with a Locking charm, and was reading his father's copy of Advanced Potions Making. He wasn't seeing what was on the pages, but it was keeping him busy, at the very least.

He knew he was being a selfish bastard, but he couldn't stop it. He just felt numb. He had tried pulling himself together, to no avail. He just sat there, staring blankly. He flexed his hand, feeling his knuckles strain, the wounds trying to reopen. He wished he could care, but he didn't. He wished he could care, but he couldn't.

He got out of bed, and wandered to the bathroom. He wanted to see if the smashed glass of the mirror made him feel regret… It didn't.

It was no longer broken.

For some bizarre reason, this pissed Scorpius off. Slamming his fist into the mirror once again, his knuckles split open, more lacerations added to the mix.

Once again, he expected to cry out in pain, but he didn't. But he could feel again. A grim smile covered his face. That'll be another seven years shoddy luck for me, thank you.

He stood for what must've been only a few seconds, but felt like hours, staring into his broken reflection. His gray eyes were still dead. His skin was still sallow looking.

He flexed his fingers again, relishing in the feeling of pain shooting through his hand, and the cool blood dripping down his fingers. The smile remained and he picked up a chunk of glass that had fallen loose. He inspected it; it reflected the brightness of the book back into his dead eyes – there's a poem in that, he thought – and it looked deadly sharp.

He pressed it to the flesh of his arm, drawing a thin line. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but then small beads of red appeared, and the sting he was desperately waiting for appeared. He swallowed, and chuckled darkly. Definitely alive.

He pressed the glass more firmly against his skin, dragging it roughly across his arm, cherishing the pain and pure feeling that flooded his body.

He sighed in relief. He hadn't taken any happy pills of late, because he hated the fall, but he missed his friends…

Walking back into the empty dorm room, he threw a couple of the pills down his throat, and got dressed. He didn't heal, or even clean, the cuts. He needed the reminder that he was real that he could feel. He needed to know he was alive.

…

…

Scorpius sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, laughing with his friends, ignoring their extremely worried glances when they think he can't see. The pills had kicked in the feeling in his arm and boosted his mood considerable. He wouldn't – couldn't – think about the drop. He needed to be happy and alert for his friends, if not for himself.

He had shoved his father and mother into the farthest crevice of his mind. He would not think about that.

Tomorrow was Saturday, and a Hogsmeade weekend, and he had planned to ask Albus is he wanted to go with him. Of course, he, Al and Rosie usually went as a three anyway, but Rosie was going with her new toy, Declan Finnigan – a Gryffindor, and son of Seamus Finnigan, on of Al's father's friends – so Scorpius wanted to ask Albus if he wanted to go with just him. So of course, he asked.

'Albus, can I talk to you for a second?' he cast a glace around, 'In private?'

Albus brow furrowed for a few seconds before he shrugged, 'Sure.' They went out into the entrance hall. It was pretty vacant, considering everyone was still eating. 'So, what's bothering you, Score?'

Inhaling deeply, he geared himself up. 'I was just wondering, if… well, I was… I just thought that maybe…'

'Score!' Al chuckled, 'Spit it out! You're acting like a girl!'

Trying not to look too put out, Scorpius said, '.'

Albus looked blank. 'I didn't mean you had to fast forward… I didn't hear a word of what you said…'

With a frustrated growl, Scorpius repeated, more slowly, 'I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Together.' Cheeks flushed red, Scorpius kept his gaze on the floor, until he heard Albus laughing. I knew he wouldn't want to… Now he's laughing at me. I wish I never- mmmph!

His thoughts were cut off in a bone-crushing hug. 'Of course I want to go with you!' Score's eyes lit up, which was rare nowadays. Al saw this, his grin widening. 'Why wouldn't I?'

Scorpius blush deepened. 'I, uh… I don't know.' He said, not wanting to admit to his insecurities.

With a quick kiss, Albus grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the Great Hall. 'C'mon! I'm starving.'

Scorpius laughed at him, but let himself be dragged.

…

…

It was Saturday. Albus and Scorpius were seated in a corner of the Three Broomsticks, heads close together, whispering sweet nothings. Or, so people thought. Really they were talking about this and that; a little of everything.

'So, why did you have trouble asking me out, Score? It's not like I would've said no!' Albus chuckled as Scorpius flushed.

'I, uh… Well, I thought you would've said no…' Score admitted.

'Why?'

Score's eyebrows shot up. 'Why would you want to go out with me?'

'Why wouldn't I?'

'Because I'm…well, look at me.'

'I have. I don't see your point.'

Score blushed. 'Yes, well. I'm a Malfoy.' He spat the word, like it was nasty and vile.

Albus frowned. 'I know you are. There's nothing wrong with being a Malfoy. Dad cleared your family's name years ago!'

'You wouldn't understand,' Score muttered, leaning back against his chair.

Albus covered the other boy's hand with his own, 'So make me.'

Sighing heavily, Scorpius shook his head. This was supposed to be a nice, peaceful day out; no worries. They were on a date, for crying out loud. 'Just leave it, Al.'

'Score, please.'

'Albus…' Scorpius warned, and, with a resigned sigh, Al dropped it, moving onto talk about Quidditch.

The rest of the day went perfectly well.

…

…

Albus and Scorpius fell into their dorm room, limbs tangled, lips pressed together in a bruising kiss, hands everywhere.

They were all over each other.

'Good date then?'

Albus and Scorpius sprang apart, Albus tripping, but steadying himself, and Scorpius falling fully on his arse. Caleb, a fellow roommate, was sat on his bed, smirking, book in hand. The other two boys were opening and closing their mouths, unable to make a sound.

'Y' thought I'd be asleep, didn't y'?' Caleb laughed again.

Scorpius nodded, face beet red, trying to cover his crotch.

Caleb nodded slowly in understanding. 'Well, when y' have … calmed down,' he said, winking, 'Y' have a letter.'

Well, that's a mood killer… Scorpius thought to himself, blood turning to ice, no doubt in his mind that it was from his father.

After bidding goodnight to Albus, and nodding his thanks to Caleb, he grabbed the letter, clambered into his pyjamas and slipped into bed, heart racing.

Opening the letter, his heart dropped. It wasn't from his father.

It was signed off with,

all my love, Mother.


	5. Chater Five

Scorpius sat, feeling a horrible sense of déjà vu. Except this was not a letter from his sad, loving, caring father, it was a letter from his lying, cheating sleaze of a mother.

The anger pounded through him like acid – cold, bitter and dangerous.

Of course he missed his mother; it was only natural. But who was she to write to him out of the blue, in the middle of term – in the middle of his NEWTs! – to ask for forgiveness; Asking about his father, Saying what a mistake she had made; Asking him about home life and school and whether he had a girlfriend yet or not, as if she fucking cared! She didn't even know her own son was gay!

He felt the angry tears behind his eyes and tried to blink them away. He looked over to Al's bed, tears making slow and scalding tracks down his cheeks.

Why can't I have a family like his? His parents are happily married. They're a family. It's not fair! he thought bitterly. It was a rare day when Astoria had contacted him; now she was writing to him at school?

It was strange reading her smooth, cursive penmanship, expressing false concern, begging for pardon. There is no way I'm forgiving her! Scorpius thought. Yes, he loved his mother, but what she did was unforgivable.

A Malfoy does not cheat in marriage, or at anything else. A Malfoy does not sleep around tastelessly. A Malfoy certainly does not steal from he own fucking family, to run away with her new toy boy in France!

By now the tears had stopped, replaced by a bout of shaking. Scorpius was fuming. He Accio'd a piece of parchment and a quill, and wrote furiously.

Astoria,  
I do not want you to write to me. Father doesn't not, and will not want to see you again, and neither do I. Father and I want nothing more to do with you. You have torn this family apart. We, Father and I, are Malfoys; I do not expect you to know all out traditions. But I cannot fathom how you could betray your own family. Father married you, you have me, your son! And you just brushed us off your shoulder! You disgrace the Malfoy name; this divorce is for the best.

I will not apologize, Mother.

Goodbye.  
Scorpius.

He sat, staring at the parchment, before calling to his owl and sending her out the common room window.

Who does she think she is? she thought tempestuously.

He looked over to Al again, who was now facing him, sleeping deeply and serenely. Scorpius wanted to go and join him in his bed, wrap his arms around the younger boy's waist, and fall asleep too. Instead he rolled over, facing the wall, and willed himself to sleep.

…

…

'Score; Scorpius! Please, babe! Score!' Al shook Scorpius awake, face creased with worry. Score was thrashing around on the bed, whimpering, almost in pain.

Suddenly he sat up, gasping for air, sheen of sweat coating his forehead, face as pale as snow. He looked frantically around the dorm room, and saw a figure leaning over the side of his bed. His eyes widened and he made to shout, thinking he was still dreaming, when he heard Al whisper his name.

His hands shot out, and he clung to Al's shirt, pulling him down onto his bed and hiding his face in his neck. He was shaking, covered in a cold sweat, images of his nightmare flickering behind his eyelids.

'Score?' Al whispered tentatively, hands carding through the soft blond hair.

There was a bang and a 'Fuck!' from the other side of the room, a few soft footfalls and then Caleb's face popped up on the other side of Scorpius' bed. 'Hey, mate. Y' all right? I heard y' shouting in y' sleep, then whispers. Didn't really know if I wanted to come over,' he winked at the couple, 'but you're a mate, and y' got me worried. Are y' all right?' he said, his brow furrowing, his face turning serious – a strange look on Caleb.

Scorpius just nodded. 'Go back to sleep, Cay,' he said, his voice rough and cracking. Caleb frowned at him for a moment longer, before sharing a glance with Albus, nodding, and tripping his way back to his bed. A few minutes later, soft snores could be heard.

Al climbed into bed next to his… next to Scorpius – boyfriends sounds silly, he thought – and held him close, willing him back to sleep. He fell asleep not long after.

…

…

Scorpius, Albus, Rosie, Declan, and Caleb were sat around a table in the Three Broomsticks, drinking Butterbeer and talking animatedly. Well, everyone save Scorpius. Scorpius was just drinking, watching the others. He wasn't in the mood for gossip. His mind was hazy. He'd received another letter from his father, detailing Astoria had written to him, asking him what he'd been telling 'her son' because 'a sixteen year old simply could not speak to his mother in that way without being provoked'. Of course.

It had been two weeks since the nightmare and everything, and it still haunted him when he closed his eyes. He had taken to sharing a bed with Al, which help him stay calm with a warm body pressed up against his, something for him to hold onto. Nevertheless, he felt like utter shit.

He was falling asleep in classes, skipping meals, spending more and more time hiding under the covers than socializing with his friends. But today, a joint effort between Al, Caleb and Rosie, he'd been dragged to Hogsmeade. Nobody expected him to be the life of the party, and just having him there made everyone more at ease, but they were all worried; it was written on their faces, and Scorpius was getting sick of it.

'I'll be back in a minute,' he muttered, standing, walking towards the bathroom.

Stepping out of the cubicle, he was forced against the far wall, eyes going wide, gasping in shock. Then he saw that it was Albus, and he was flooded with confusion. 'What are you- mmph!' His question was muffled by the raven-haired boy's lips pressing to his own desperately. After a few seconds, he kissed back, hands moving up Al's arms and looping loosely around his neck.

Tongues caressed and hair was mussed and small groans were emitted from both boys. Scorpius poured all of his frustration and all of his love for Al into the kisses, and grabbed the front of Al's shirt, dragging him into one of the cubicles.

This time, they were the other way around; Al was pressed to the wall, arms pinned above his head by one of Scorpius'. Score's other hand was holding Al's hip hard enough to bruise, pressing their bodies close together, his mouth laying kisses and small nips on the other boy's neck.

Al was whimpering and breathing heavily, his trousers becoming much too tight. Scorpius' hand had slipped to Al's zipper and was struggling to undo it with one hand – he'd never done this before! Just as he'd undone the blasted thing, the door to the bathroom creaked open, causing them both to stop everything; breathing, groaning, moving.

Then a familiar voice called out. 'Guys? I know you're in here! Stop fucking and get out here. You've been in here twenty minutes. C'mon, guys! Y' horny little fuckers!' Caleb, of course.

Scorpius let go of Al's wrists, zipped his trousers back up, gave him one last fleeting kiss, and stepped out of the cubicle, letting Al calm himself down if he needed to. He walked straight to the sinks to splash cold water on his face, giving Caleb – of whom was grinning like the Cheshire cat – a sheepish smile. However, when he got to the sinks, and inevitably, the mirrors, and looked himself in the eyes, he froze. Everything, all his anger and his hatred towards the world, all the bad feelings and the stress and the nightmares, all the pain, was there, in his own dead, flat, lifeless eyes. How could no-one have noticed? Maybe they have noticed, and they just don't care, his thoughts taunted.

He shook his head minutely, feeling like he couldn't breathe. The strip lights hurt his eyes and there was a high pitched buzzing in his ears. Black spots appeared in his vision and his blood ran cold.

He fainted on the bathroom floor, not hearing Caleb's shout, or seeing Albus' scared face.


	6. Chapter Six

Merlin, it's dark.  
Wait, no.  
I can't open my eyes. I can't move.  
Why can't I open my eyes?  
Why can't I fucking move?  
What's going on?  
Is this another nightmare?  
Please, I want to move. I want to see.  
I'm sorry! I know I've been insufferable.  
I've been a complete wanker. But please. Please! Please.

…

…

Al watched as Scorpius twitched and grumbled in his sleep. He desperately wanted to wake him up, to hold him close, to kiss all of his pain away. But Madame Pomfrey forbade him. All he could do was sit and watch and hold his … best friend's hand. I don't like the term 'boyfriend'; it doesn't express enough emotion. 'Lovers' just sounds awful – we haven't haven't even had sex yet… he thought to himself. He had done his fair share of crying. He wished Scorpius had spoken to him instead of shrugging him off, but he knew he didn't want to talk about it.

He had spoken to Madame Pomfrey many times – every time she had walked into the Hospital Wing – and he knew exactly what was wrong. He just didn't know why. How could he not have noticed? How do you just-

'ALBUS!' came the piercing screech, ripped from Scorpius' lungs. It was not, by any means, a pleasant noise. It was one full of terror and pain and confusion. Albus was on his feet in seconds, shouting for the mediwitch. She, too, was by the blond's bedside in seconds.

Scorpius had his eyes wide open; he was shaking and was covered in a cold sweat. He looked around, surveying his surroundings, and seemed to not know where he was. He was just whimpering Al's name over and over.

'Scorpius! Oh my, Score!' Al cried, clutching the other boy's hand like he was the one who needed a lifeline. He turned his face to Pomfrey, face full of misaimed anger. 'What's wrong with him?' he snarled. 'You said he'd be fine when he awoke. He is not fucking fine! What did you do?'

'I assure you, Mister Potter, I have done nothing but help this boy,' she said, voice and face amazingly calm, though her eyes looked troubled. She cast the usual spells to check his health, brows furrowing slightly. 'He is well, Mister Potter. I believe he just had a nightmare. He does need more sleep, but I would not advise it; not yet. Go to him, Mister Potter, but do not agitate him. I will be back,' she said, sounding more threatening than consoling.

Still fuming, he turned his attention back to Scorpius. He placed his hand on the other boy's cheek, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Scorpius seemed to have calmed down, and was now looking at Albus with tear-filled eyes.

'Albus,' he croaked, voice thick with sleep and scratchy from screaming.

'Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me about you not eating; you cutting! I could have helped, Scorpius! Everyone would have helped,' Albus said, his own eyes filling with tears.

Neither of them would cry; not in front of each other. I'm turning into a fucking Hufflepuff, they both thought.

'I couldn't tell you. You would've left. You would've pissed off and left me on my own. I couldn't let that happen, Al. I need you. I-' he cut himself off before saying it; before saying those three little words. He wanted to say it; Merlin, did he want to. He felt it; deep in his heart, in his soul, in his every fibre, he felt it. But he couldn't say it! What a preposterous idea.

Love is folly; it makes you tear down your defences and then, when you're nice and exposed, like a snake it lunges. It springs for your heart, injecting the cold, dangerous poison that is deception and lies, and sends it swirling and cascading through your body, making you doubt, making you argue making you hate. And once your defences are down, it's nigh on impossible to build them back up.

Love is stupid and ridiculous and makes you act irrationally and blinds you from what should mean something; from what is important.

But Gods, did Scorpius want to say it.

He didn't. He kept mum and instead looked down at himself, at his bandaged arms. He looked back up Albus again, all the sorrow in the world swimming in his eyes. Albus just nodded.

…

…

It had been only two days since Scorpius had been allowed to leave the Hospital Wing. He had spent three days in there, Albus at his side, talking about pointless things, avoiding the subject of how he landed himself in the Hospital Wing. Albus had tried to bring it up only once more, and Scorpius had frozen him out. He tried telling him that he wouldn't leave under any circumstances then, but Scorpius simply refused to acknowledge Al then, so he gave up.

Al knew Scorpius would talk eventually, but he just had to be patient. Unfortunately, Albus Potter, like every Potter, was not very virtuous, and hence thought that after a few days Scorpius would be ready to talk…

They were sat in the Common Room playing Wizard Chess; Rosie was off with Declan and everyone else, well, who cares where they were? All that matters is that Albus and Scorpius were alone in the Common Room. The chess game was not necessary, but details and all. Anyway, it was all of a sudden that Albus glanced up at Scorpius after his Knight destroyed the blond's Rook. Score met his gaze, smirking. 'Well played.' Al nodded.

'We need to talk,' he said, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

Scorpius immediately closed in on himself. 'Al,' he said warningly. 'We don't.'

'No, we really do, Scorpius.' The raven-haired boy's face turned serious.

'No, we don't.'

'We-' Al huffed. 'We're bickering like children. But in all seriousness, Scorpius, we need to talk. Why did you harm yourself?' he asked; his voice was not exactly soothing. Scorpius just glared at him. He tried again. 'Why have you been starving yourself?' he demanded.

'You're not very good at this, are you, Albus?' Score said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. 'Because I need to, and because I'm not hungry. There, are we done? Can I go, Professor?'

Albus leaped out of his chair, leaned over the table and grabbed Scorpius by his cloak so fast, it left Scorpius startled for a mere second. 'You son-of-a-bitch. Drop the fucking act, Scorpius. Do you know what you're doing to yourself? Do you know what you're doing to Rosie, to your family? To me? Do you have any idea on how reckless you're being; how selfish?'

'SELFISH? That's rich coming from you!' Scorpius screamed. 'Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?' Score mocked, mimicking Al's voice. 'Oh, la la, I'm Albus, I think I'm perfect because I'm the son of Harry Fucking Potter. I get to be all high and righteous and spit on everyone who does wrong by me. I've got a stick so far up my arse-'

Al punched him. He didn't use his wand to cast a hex; it wouldn't be satisfying enough. Instead, he brought his fist up and smashed it into Scorpius' jaw. There was a crunch and Score screamed. 'You fucking asshole!' the blond shouted, clutching his jaw in one hand, his wand in the other. 'You complete wanker. I thought we were friends! I fucking… I… Fuck you!' The Malfoy boy screamed, sprinting out of the Common Room, and disappeared into the depths of Hogwarts.

Albus stood, shaking with fury and regret, clutching his fist, staring at the entrance the the Common Room. That went swimmingly, he thought before slumping back into his chair.

…

…

Scorpius crept back into the Common Room and around midnight. It was empty, luckily, and the fire was just a pit of glowing embers. He tip toed up the stairs to the dorm and stuck his head around. Everyone was fast asleep. Thank Merlin, he thought, and padded over to his bunk; he growled when he saw Albus occupying it. 'Get out of my bed.'

Albus just continued to stare at his hands. Score had his wand pointed at him in seconds; he didn't flinch. 'I said-'

'I know what you said. I know very well what you said,' Al whispered, and Score knew he was talking about earlier, in the Common Room. 'I just want to help, Score! Why won't you let me help?' All the guilt of punching Scorpius was reflected in his eyes and in his words. 'I just want to help.'

Scorpius stood there, shocked, numb, empty. 'I'm sorry.' He muttered as he turned around to leave. He felt Al grab his wrist. He stumbled and fell back onto the bed. 'What are you doing?' he said, voice harsh, but just a whisper; Caleb was still asleep.

'Don't you leave; I need to say sorry.' Al then smashed his lips against Score's.

Scorpius' brain went into overload. 'What are you doing?' he repeated, shouting this time. He heard Caleb squeak in surprise, and fall from his bed. He would've laugh had he not been so outraged. He jump from his own bed, aiming a full on death glare at Albus. 'You break my jaw, and then you try to snog me? What the fuck is wrong with you?'

'What the fuck is wrong with me? Really? You're going to pull that one? Really. Scorpius, you fucking-'

'Guys, will y' shut the fuck up? I'm trying to fucking sleep, for Merlin's sake! Take your lover's tiff elsewhere.'

'Piss off, Caleb!' came the chorused reply.

'Hey! Don't y' tell me to piss off! Y' just woke me up, y' idiots! Now either fuck and make up or I'll hex you both. At least shut the fuck up. Y' know. Sleep? It's great. You should try it sometime. Maybe together. But not whilst I'm in the room, please. I like my eyes. Cheers. Now, go.' Albus and Scorpius just blinked at Caleb, and then at each other.

'I am sorry, you know,' Al said solemnly. The pillow from Caleb's direction narrowly missing his head lessened the effect, though.

'I know,' Scorpius sighed. 'Move over. Or get out. This is my bed, you know…' he said, climbing in beside Al anyway, and facing away from him.

'Mm, I know,' the dark-haired boy mumbled, wrapping his arms around Score's waist. 'Y' know, sleeping with each other sounds like a rather good idea,' he whispered in the blond's ear. He felt the other boy shiver against him. 'I'm just saying.' He smirked.

'No. Not now. I'm still pissed at you.'

Al took the blond's earlobe between his teeth, biting gently. 'Are you? But I was only trying to help…'

'I know… But you didn't have to be a prick about it.'

Al ran his hand over the blond's chest. He relished in the gasp, his smirk growing. 'You were being a prick, too.'

'Hn, it was justified.' His eyelids fluttered shut.

Al's hand scratched a path down the toned chest, stopping at the waistband of the other's boxer shorts (somehow he had changed; magically, probably). His nails glided from one hip bone to the other and back. Scorpius bit back a moan, fighting the urge to arch his back. 'I'm still mad…' he said, voice strained.

This time, Albus did not have a witty remark. He just kept using his nails to make the boy in his arms quiver and squirm.

After a few agonizing minutes of pure, blissful torture, Score cracked. 'Fine! I'll fuck you. Or you can fuck me. I don't care! Just stop fucking teasing!' he shouted, forgetting about Caleb who promptly screamed;

'I SAID NOT WHILST I WAS IN THE ROOM, YOU FUCKWITS!'


	7. Chapter Seven

Scorpius woke up smiling; actually smiling! It was the best night's sleep he had had in months; no nightmares, no waking up every hour, just sleep. He felt the body behind him stir and pull him closer, almost painfully so; he had never felt so needed, and – dare he think it? – loved. The warm, steady breath on the back of his neck pulled his mouth even wider.

'Albus?' he whispered gently, voice hoarse from sleep, and perhaps from the numerous shouting matching of the previous day. Before the memories of the arguments could pull his mood down, a voice broke through.

'Mm, mornin',' Al mumbled. 'How did you sleep?' he asked, placing a quick kiss on Scorpius' shoulder.

'Wonderful, thank you.' Score rolled over to face Al.

'Why are you thanking me?' the boy chuckled.

'Because you… you kept me safe…' Score mumbled, not looking Al in the eyes, though when a hand was laid on his cheek, their gazes met.

'From what?' Al asked, no trace of humor left in his voice, only worry.

Scorpius blinked, worrying his lip, battling with the devil on his shoulder; to tell Al, or to not tell Al? Al wouldn't understand, not properly. He wouldn't understand the anger or the pain or the usual numbness that Score feels on a daily basis. He wouldn't understand his need for someone to hold him close, or his want to be alone. He wouldn't understand the whys and wherefores of why Al went from silent to raging in zero point two seconds. No, he wouldn't understand; but he'd be there. And maybe that was enough. It would get him off of your back,' his thoughts sniped, 'but what if-'

'I meant what I said, you know,' Al interjected Score's train of thought. 'I want you help you. In any way I can. If it means sleeping beside you every night, spoon feeding you at every meal and cuffing your hands together, so be it. I just want to help!'

Scorpius shifted and sighed. 'I know you do. And I will tell you, I honestly will, but can it be on my terms? I need to think about this. Please, Albus. Give me some time.' He whispered, desperately trying not to start shaking. He had been in such a good mood…

'No, no, I understand! Please, it's okay. I just needed you to know I'm here.' Al smiled ruefully.

'Thank you. Now, can we change the subject? I don't like feeling like shite, you know,' he smiled back.

…

…

They were sitting on the grass near the lake, Scorpius, Albus and Rosie. There was no Caleb or Declan today, just the three of them, soaking up the sun and enjoying the warmth. Rosie and Al were laid down, arms folded behind their head, eyes closed, small smiled on their faces. Scorpius, though enjoying the warmth, was not smiling, or laying down. He was sat up, legs crossed and arms folded in his lap, toying with a blade of grass, looking out over the lake. He heaved a silent sigh and tore up another clump of grass.

'What's wrong, Scorpius?' Rosie asked, sitting up slowly, delicately stretching, wincing when her joints popped.

'Hm? Oh, nothing!' his smile was one hundred per cent fake, and everyone could tell, but no one said anything. 'I'm just tired.'

'But you told me you slept well!' Al said, mildly affronted.

'No, I did! It's this heat. It wears me out. I might just go inside for a bit,' he smiled again, tying his hardest to make it seem genuine.

'Oh, Score! Do you want us to come with you, I mean-'

'No, no, it's fine. I'll probably just do some homework.'

His friends laughed. 'Are you sure you're okay?' Al asked, still chuckling.

Score flipped him the finger and stood up, brushing grass from his lap and arse. 'I'll see you later,' said, waving as he walked away, ignoring his friend's half worried glances.

…

…

He sat on his bed, legs folded beneath him, holding an envelope in his hands. He was breathing slowly, but deeply and felt numb. It was from his father; he could recognize the writing. Merlin only knows what it says. Scorpius had his ideas, but he didn't know. He didn't really want to know.

He sat and he stared and he sighed.

He got up, wobbled on his feet, light headed. He levitated the letter over to the fireplace and watched it burn. He didn't know that it was his father telling him that the divorce had been finalized, that his mother no longer had a hold on him, that he was coming to Hogwarts in a few days to see his son to celebrate. He didn't know it said that his father had been given a promotion to Head Healer and St. Mungo's. He didn't know his father had found someone new; not a girlfriend, but just a friend; someone to talk to.

He was too busy digging out the pills from the bottom of his trunk, deliberating for a second, before emptying the contents into his gullet, promptly choking.

Once he was able to breath, he swallowed the pills that he had coughed up, and stumbled back into bed. His last hope was that he wouldn't wake up. There were two notes under his pillow; one explaining everything to Rosie and Albus, the other explaining everything and more to his father.

He would finally be free of the pain and the anger.

There was a smile on his face as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter Eight

Albus and Rosie relaxed on the grass, listening to the gentle lap of the lake in the breeze and to the birds whistling away in the trees and to the beautiful silence of everything else. Many students were outside, but they were far off in the distance, closer to the school.

They were content outside with the sun warming their bodies, with nothing to worry about; Nothing but Scorpius or NEWTs or parents. But even here, in the warm shadows of Hogwarts, they felt inexplicably safer than they would anywhere else. Voldemort was gone, the Death Eaters were gone, and there was nothing to fear. Nothing, it seemed, but fear itself.

But the two friends had no reason to fear, not for themselves. They feared for Scorpius, though. He had been acting rather oddly of late. Hell, he'd been acting strange all year. He would not explain why, though. He still hadn't told Albus, let alone anyone else. No one knew what was wrong, not really, which was the most troubling thing of all. Bottling everything up inside one's self was the worst way to deal with things. But it's hard to get someone to talk when they simply refuse to acknowledge their problems.

So they let him go back into the castle. How could they have known?

...

…

It was getting late, and rather chilly, when Rosie sat up, joints popping, and looked around. It wasn't dark yet, but the light was definitely fading. 'Hey, Al? Do you think Scorpius is okay?'

Al sat up too, stomach growling loudly. On any normal day, this would have made him chuckle. But he just ignored it, his face creased with worry. 'No, I don't,' he said simply.

'Well, don't sugar-coat it. I think we should go an check on him.'

Al smiled ruefully. 'Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Can we stop at the Great Hall first and pick something up to eat? I, uh, I'm kind of starving.' Even as he said it, his face turned into a look of horror. 'Shit. I mean… Um, can we?' He had forgotten – momentarily, of course – that Scorpius was the one who was starving; starving himself. Rosie just nodded and stood up, offering a hand to Albus, of which he took, and pulled him up.

As they walked into the Great Hall – which was full of students - they immediately saw Scorpius wasn't there, of which they suspected. They heard Caleb call them over, but shook their heads, indicating they were going to see Score. Caleb just nodded, turning back to his other friends and his plate of food. They wrapped some food in napkins, and then left.

The walk down to the Dungeons was silent, deafeningly so. Neither of them knew what to say, so they didn't say a thing. It was awkward, but they were too wrapped up in their worry to care all that much. They reached the entrance to the Common Room, muttered the password and stepping in, expecting to see Scorpius.

He wasn't there.

'Lazy git's probably gone upstairs to sleep,' Al said, a touch of unease in his voice. 'I'll go up and check on him.'

Rosie nodded, sitting on the edge of one of the sofas. 'I'll just wait here, then.'

Climbing the stairs to the dorm, Al's stomach was doing somersaults. He knew Score would be okay, but it didn't mean he wasn't anxious. Last time Score had been alone, he'd cut himself into ribbons.

Albus was flooded with relief to see Al on his bed, seemingly asleep. He walked over to him, and presses a kiss to his temple. 'Come on, Scorpius. Get up, you lazy so-and-so.' There was no response. He shook him by the shoulder gently, and then with more vigour. 'Score? Come on, you git. Wake up. You need to eat.'

He then noticed the empty bottle of pills. His blood turned to ice and he was filled with dread. He dropped the wrapped food and checked for a pulse. He couldn't fine one – perhaps he wasn't looking in the right place.

He put his ear against Score's mouth; he was breathing! - But barely.

'Rosie!' he screamed. 'ROSE! Help!' In three seconds flat she was next to Al, face wide with fear.

'What has he done?' she shrieked. 'We need to take him to Madame Pomfrey! Now, Albus!' She shouted, not waiting for a reply.

Nodding, confused and disorientated, they managed to carry to unconscious Malfoy to the Hospital Wing.

…

…

'Is he going to be all right?' Scorpius heard someone whisper a little too loudly. Albus? He couldn't tell; everything sounded like he was under water.

'Of course he will be; he's Scorpius. He's made of strong stuff.' Someone else whispered; a voice he didn't recognize.

'Yeah, of course he will be. Y' know what he's like. He's just like his dad; attracting all the trouble in the world. He'll be peachy keen when he wake up, just y' wait and see.' That was definitely Caleb.

Someone muttered something, but it was too quiet for Scorpius to hear. He tried moving, but it was futile. He was back in this situation; he couldn't move, and he couldn't see. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got there. His mind was hazy, and it was annoying him to no end. All he remembers is going up to the dorm room and … then nothing.

What have I done?

'I would like to run some more tests on Mister Malfoy, so I must ask you to leave,' someone said, presumably Madame Pomfrey, in a very business-like manner, or so Scorpius thought; he was still under water.

'But it's been four days! What more could you possible do?' someone protested.

'Mister Potter,' Albus, then, 'Symptoms and injuries may occur after a time, not instantly. I need to constantly monitor Mister Malfoy's condition to be one hundred per cent sure he … pulls through.'

'Oh, right, sure, don't bloody sugar-coat it,' said the voice who must have been Albus.

'Albus!' another voice said, sounding outraged, confirming Score's suspicions. That was Rosie; no one ever spoke like that, unless it was Rosie.

'Please, Mister Potter. I shall inform you as soon as you are allowed to visit. Miss Weasley and Mister Adair, too. Now please, I must insist you leave. I am sorry.'

With a few huffs and profanities later, Scorpius assumed everyone must have left, for he heard the Mediwitch mutter, 'Now, then, Mister Potter…' and he was hit with a Calming Draught and a sleeping charm, which would have confused him – he was already asleep, was he not? Was this not all a dream? – but his mind had already succumbed.

…

…

Six days after overdosing, Scorpius opened his eyes. He laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, heart pounding, covered in a cold sweat, just like after any nightmare. But this wasn't just any night mare. Sure, everything happened the same, in the right order, but he couldn't escape. He took comfort in the fact that he could wake up when things got to a certain point, but not tonight – or this morning, which ever. The point was this time, he couldn't wake up, couldn't come back to the land of the living; something had been holding him back.

So when he finally opened his eyes, breathing quick and shallow, relief flooded through him. He was out, he wasn't trapped; he could-

He couldn't move. He was still dreaming.

His pulse picked its pace back up, and he opened his mouth to scream, but nothing happened. His lips stayed firmly closed. He tried to thrash around, to defy whatever force was holding him down, to get away – he couldn't watch that again, he couldn't face his mother or his father or his friends, not like that, not looking like that – but it was futile. He simply could not move. And it was terrifying.

Then he heard it; that give-away noise he heard every time; the sounding of an alarm in the distance, the signal, the sign that danger was closing in. He laid deathly still. He tried to slow his breathing and calm his heart.

I can't be found, he thought, if I'm found, I'll be dragged back. I don't know how I got here, wherever here is, but they'll find me and they'll drag me back!

He was frantic. He was too busy freaking out to hear Madame Pomfrey, flanked by Albus and Rosie, running into the ward, varying degrees of worry and despair on their faces.

'Scorpius!' Al shouted, heavy footfalls echoing in the room. When the trio had reached Scorpius' bed, Al turned on Mediwitch. 'What's wrong with him? You said! You said you'd help him! You said you just needed to 'run a few scans', so why the fuck are all the charms going off? Why is he so unresponsive? Why? You said… you fucking said you'd help him you lying-'

'Albus! Would you be quiet? Let Madame Pomfrey work, for Merlin's sake,' Rosie berated.

'Oh, sure, because she's certainly been working to fix Score recently, hasn't she?' he retorted acrimoniously.

'Albus!' she hissed, before apologizing to the witch on his behalf. Madame Pomfrey just shook her head as if to dispel the remarks.

'I know it must be hard on the pair of you especially; anger is only to be expected. I do not take offence. However, I must assure you that I am doing everything in my power to bring Mister Malfoy back to full health. You see he is already awake, though perhaps not consciously,' she worked as she explained, pausing every now and then to check parchments and scans. 'I needed to bind him fully so he would not further harm himself whilst sleeping. Internal Healing charms require a lot of bed rest for the recipient to work to their full and highest standard. If he were to awaken still poisoned with the pills he had taken, the hallucinations he would have endured could have been fatal.'

'So why does he look so panicked?'

'Would you not be scared if you work up seemingly paralyzed?'

Albus just huffed and took the blond's hand, ignoring the older woman's shocked expression.

A few minutes later, after a vast amount of scans, the binding charms were lifted. There were a few seconds of deathly silence, and then a piercing scream filled the Hospital Ward. A scream filled with extraordinary terror; a scream that only lasted a few seconds, but turned the blood of every person present to ice.

Mumbling and whimpering, it took a few moments for Scorpius to realize he hadn't been dreaming at all; his mother wasn't wielding some sort of sharp Muggle instrument – she wasn't there at all. Albus was alive, Rosie didn't have two faces, and Madame Pomfrey was… well, she hadn't even appeared in his nightmares, so maybe it was that that had tipped him off, and brought him back to the real world.

'Al?' came the hoarse croak, barely above a whisper. 'Rosie? Ma-Madame Pomfrey?'

'Mister Malfoy, you are in the Hospital Wing. Can you remember how you got here?' the witch asked soothingly, though it was how she spoke to every patient who had been seriously injured or comatose.

'I, uh… I… no,' Scorpius said weakly.

Al inhaled sharply. Madame Pomfrey had explained that memory loss would likely occur, as it did in many overdose victims, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. He even saw Rosie tense.

'You overdosed on medication. You are lucky your friends found you when they did or…' she trailed away, obviously realizing she had said too much, before carrying on on a slightly lighter note. 'You are well on the way to recovery, though your memory will be hazy. It will take time to fully recover, and I strongly suggest you take it easy. Though if you are anything like your father, I doubt you will heed my advice. Though,' she said, looking pointedly at Albus, 'you don't seem as much like your father as I first thought. Maybe you take after your mother-'

'No!' Scorpius said, so much venom in his weak voice, Rosie squeaked in shock, and Madame Pomfrey's eyes widened; Albus nearly jumped out of his skin altogether. 'I'm nothing like her.'

'Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, Mister Malfoy. Now, I shall need to monitor you over the next few days – just precautionary, I assure you – and you will be under supervision when you are able to leave. I will also refer you to a Mind Healer. I am sorry to tell you this, but I need also to tell your father. As your main guardian, he needs to know.'

'No, you can't! Please! Please, don't tell him!' Scorpius cried, voice cracking and wavering. Albus rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand.

'I am sorry, Scorpius,' said the nurse, using the Malfoy's given name now it had turned personal, 'but he needs to know.' There was a long pause; Rosie and Al tried their hardest to calm their friend down and as the Mediwitch sorted parchments.

A few minutes later she returned with a phial of Calming Draught. He grimaced, not wanting to take it. He didn't want to be here. He hated that he was alive. He wasn't supposed to be. He didn't want to be. Regardless, he took the potion and zoned out as Rosie and Al made small talk, and he pretended to listen.


	9. Chapter Nine

'Come on, Scorpius! For crying out loud! You've been sulking in this room ever since… well, you know since when! You need to get out! I miss you! Rosie misses you. Hell, even Slughorn misses you! Come on, Score, please? For me?' Albus said, pulling on Score's hand, trying to dislodge him from the sofa he was sprawled on.

'Albus, no. I'm not going out. I've only been out the Hospital Wing for a week! I'm still frail. I feel like shite. And this monitor is doing my fucking head in! I can't blink without it warning me not to strain myself. You expect me to go out with you? Al, I love you, but let me rest. Please? I need it,' the blond said, a little hysterically, looking at Al, expecting him to start shouting again.

He didn't though. He just stood, staring, mouth agape. It was a little unnerving. 'Albus? What did I-'

'You love me?' he muttered, eyes bright and wide.

Scorpius' mind raced – when did I let that slip? Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Think, Scorpius. You need to think. Anything, just don't let him know that. If he knows, he can break you - and he tripped over his words. 'I, uh, I… No. Don't be s-silly! It was a slip of the tongue, you know what I mean. I love you as in, you know… I…' oh, how could he get out of this? 'I just meant it as thought to say 'you're lovely and all' or something. You know how it is… Um… I, I need to go and… I just need to go.' He bolted from the Common Room, realizing too late that that action contradicted everything he had said before he had let the truth slip. What was I thinking? I swore to myself I'd never say that. I can't be vulnerable! Love makes you weak, dependant. I can't be dependant! I am a Malfoy. I must depend only on myself. I must be strong and I must not fail. Love will only break me, and I cannot be weak. Is that not what Astoria has been teaching me all these years?

He stormed through the castle, mind a whirlwind of emotion, shaking so hard his back ached. He couldn't get Al's frighteningly ecstatic expression and hopeful eyes from his mind. You love me? His voice sounded so… well, so happy. Like it was what he had wanted, what he had needed, to hear. It was devastating.

…

…

Albus stood, shell shocked, staring that the entrance to the Common Room, heart in his throat. It's okay, he just didn't want… he didn't… Why did he run? Al couldn't fathom why Scorpius could say something so … so unlike Scorpius … and then flee. He never expected to be told he was loved, not by a Malfoy. Not by Scorpius. It was so unexpected. But then he had tried to cover it up so badly, and when that had failed, he ran. He always runs. He runs from his problems and he doesn't look back. He doesn't talk, he doesn't acknowledge anything is wrong, he just bottles it up, and then when he slips us, he runs even faster. Trust a Malfoy, Al thought, tasting bitter bile at the back of his throat.

…

…

Scorpius was walking the corridors, trying to think. What was he going to say to Albus now? It had taken all of his effort not to trip up; he never anticipated it ever happening. And now the truth was out there, in the big bad world, and there was no way of taking it back. No doubt Albus thought he was some kind of pathetic little girl, some sort of Hufflepuff. Merlin, this was bad. Not only is he a disgrace for falling and unable to control his emotions, he's turning into some kind of sappy Hufflepuff.

After a while of wandering aimlessly he found himself in the Astronomy Tower. It was a lovely day. It was Saturday, so there were students milling around all over the school grounds, and who could blame them? The sun was blazing, though there was a cool breeze, making the heat bearable. Scorpius observed all the happy faces and laughing groups of friends, envy boiling in his gut. Oh, how he wished he could enjoy this weather, enjoy having a … enjoy being in … enjoy being with his friends! He should enjoy those things, those things and more. He should be a regular teenager, enjoying life. But he isn't a regular teenager and he wasn't enjoying a thing.

The bright sun and lovely warm did nothing to alleviate his bad mood. He wished Albus was with him but he knew he had thrown that away. There was no way Albus would … reciprocate the feelings Scorpius certainly did not harbour.

It was too soon. It had only been a few weeks, if that, since they had … initiated their relationship, if that's what it even was. He doubted Albus would ever feel that way towards him; he was a mess. His family was falling apart before his very eyes and he couldn't cope. It was difficult opening his eyes in the morning and dragging himself out of bed. It took too much energy to fucking blink; especially recently, since his suicide scare.

He hadn't meant to swallow the pot of pills, he didn't want to choke on the medication. But he wasn't going to fool anyone; he had wanted to die. He's wanted to die ever since he realized no one cares; because nobody does. It's a hard fact of life, but it's true. No matter how much you care about anything, everything changes and then everything ends. Love and life and money and family, and all the care in the universe won't stop it.

So even if Scorpius did love Al, and even if he did feel the same, it doesn't matter! It is not final and shall never last! The only thing that is certain is the end. Death; The clouds; The Pit; The bed in Heaven or Hell's chains, or wandering on Earth as a ghost; Or simply lying in the ground as a box of bones! That is what is final.

And that is why Scorpius ran. He couldn't face it not lasting. He doesn't want to face certain pain. So he did what he does best and scampered.

The stupid monitor that 'watched' his every move started bleeping loudly when he went to sit on the window sill, shaking him from his internal monologue, causing him to nearly fall, making the monitor go crazy!

'All right, for fuck's sake! I'm not trying to top myself! I was just sitting down! Merlin's beard!'

But it was too late; Madame Pomfrey was storming up the stair case, face a mixture of pure horror and fright. When she saw Scorpius just standing there, eyebrows raised in annoyance, hands in pockets, her expression changed to one of confusion.

'Mister Malfoy?' she asked hesitantly.

'I was just trying to sit down. It made me jump, so I nearly fell. I wasn't trying to … kill myself. But this … thing scared the living shit – sorry – the living daylights out of me, and I nearly lost my footing. You really should invest in some benches around here.' He commented dryly. Pomfrey did not look impressed. 'Please! Don't tell Father!' he added, voice turning from blasé to pleading.

He could remember when Draco found out about his last tryst with the Grim Reaper…

…

…

Scorpius was sat in McGonagall's office with his father. The Headmistress had left them to do some sort of 'important documenting' which Scorpius assumed was an excuse to leave them alone. It was awkward, no, it was beyond awkward. It was in the Valley of the Fucking Insanely Awkward, and then some.

Draco's face was a picture of hurt and confusion and a smidge of anger. 'Scorpius, I don't understand. I … how … What …' he couldn't get his words out. It was expected, Scorpius allowed, but it still infuriated him. He was expecting Wizarding War Three or whatever number they were building up to now to be waged between father and son. He expected the mother of all headaches after he his father had lost his voice screaming, or his simply expected a curt slap 'round the face, and a disownment, before being left, no excuses or explanations at all. It's what his mother would have done, after all.

But not Draco, no; Draco was babbling and frowning and Scorpius just felt numb. He hated Madame Pomfrey for summoning Draco to the castle; Scorpius was fine! She had said so herself! Why did she need to get his father involved?

He had barely spoken to him in weeks; a few curt letters here and there to say he was doing fine, but nothing of import.

It was no different now.

'Score, I just don't understand. Why would you feel the need to … to … to harm yourself, much less try and end your own life? Madame Pomfrey told me about you not eating too.' Draco looked pensive for a moment before saying, 'What is going on inside that head of yours? Is it this divorce? Because I did try, Scorpius; I tried to talk to you about it, and you brushed me off and ran. You remind me so much like myself at your age. You know, I think the Potter-fixation runs in the family,' he said with a laugh, eyes distant, as if deep in memories.

'I'm not fixated on Albus,' Scorpius said without emotion, though his heart was pounding, and he dearly hoped his father could not hear it.

'No, I am sure,' Draco said, a small smile on his lips, 'but you get on better than I ever hoped to with Potter, uh, I mean, Harry.' A frown stole the smile, making Scorpius raise his eyes brows.

'Did you and Al's dad have a, uh… well, did you …'

'No, no, of course not. He hated me for good reason and I thought he was a stupid speccy, self-righteous, stuck up git, which he was. But I never got to say thank you for… well, that's a story for another time. We are talking about you and this … thing … that has stolen my joking, laughing, silly, reckless son away and replaced him with that shell of a man.' It hurt to hear his father describe him that way, but he supposed it was true enough. He was nothing like he used to be.

He used to be fun and laugh all the time, pull pranks and try to hit on Al, laughing when Al pulled a face. He used to use Rosie's uncle's Ton-Tongue Toffees and Canary Creams to brighten his day. He used to tell jokes and laugh at himself when no one did; he used to be alive. Now he really was just a shell, empty inside.

'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Scorpius, we have to. Is it this divorce? Do you miss Astoria?'

'No!' the young Malfoy all but jumped from his chair. 'I don't miss her. She was evil and conniving and a downright bitch.'

'Scorpius, language,' said his father, though he nodded in absolute agreement, not sounding at all angered by his son's foul mouth.

'She is your mother though.'

'I don't care. I still don't want to see her, and I don't want to talk about this. There's nothing wrong with me.'

'Nothing wrong with you? Scorpius, you're cutting yourself into shreds, starving yourself and overdosing on extremely strong antidepressants. Of course there's something wrong with you!' Draco said, voice harsher than he meant for it to be.

'Okay, so I'm a freak, is that it? I'm not entitled to a bad day? That's rich!'

'You are not a freak. You're going through a hard time, we all are; I don't expect you to be joyful about it, but I need you to talk to me! I don't want to find out you've jumped off of the Astronomy Tower or slashed your throat of hexed yourself to death. I've lost your mother, I've lost my parents, I've lost everything else. I do not want to lose you too! You are my son, and I love you, but I do not want you to do this anymore. I'm glad Pomfrey is referring you to a Mind Healer. Maybe it will do you some good. If you refuse to talk to me, I must insist you talk to them; they will help you, Scorpius. And I've sure Albus and Rosie, is it? I'm sure they will help you, as well as your other friends. You have many people wishing to help you through this, Scorpius. You are not alone.'

…

…

After that there was a few awkward 'thank you's and even more awkward, emotional words shared between father and son. It made Scorpius feel weird inside.

His father was not the caring sort. Of course, Scorpius knew his father loved him, but it was on a rare occasion his affections were physical, but there were many times Draco reached for his son to comfort him, and the hug goodbye was rather strange. Scorpius was not used to being held. His mother had forbid it, saying a Malfoy should not show such weakness.

It was just weird, and he didn't want it to happen again. A slap he could have taken, an argument was fine, but acceptance and help? He was not expecting that.

He looked at the Mediwitch, eyes pleading.

'I won't tell him. I believe you. And I shall inform the Headmistress that more seats need to be arranged. But please, Mister Malfoy, let someone help you. Mister Potter is more than willing; that boy loves you, you know. I saw it when your friend's mother – Hermione Granger – looked at that young Mister Weasley. He looks at you that way. You are not alone,' she said it was the utmost sincerity, and Scorpius' gut churned again. Why is everyone so nice? And why is she saying Al loved him? It couldn't be true… not that it matters of course. Stop it, Scorpius, kill those butterflies and stop smiling.

You are not alone…

Everyone keeps saying that, so why do I feel like I'm the only one left alive? he thought absently.

However, it was from this day forward that Scorpius Malfoy swore he would try and get some help, whether it worked, or not. He didn't feel all that motivated, but what Madame Pomfrey had said… well. He felt a flicker of hope which, despite his efforts, he could not quell.


	10. Chapter Ten

With a light at the end of the tunnel and a spring in his step, Scorpius made his way back to the Common Room. He just hoped Al would forgive him for running out, for spilling his gut and then fleeing, like always.

When he walked through the entrance, full of trepidation, he was surprised to see Albus sat on one of the sofas with a note in his hand, face twisted into a mask of pain. When he cleared his throat, the raven haired boy's head whipped up, and he tried to shove the note between the cushions.

'Scorpius!' a flicker of relief flittered across the boy's face, his voice full of confusion and questions.

'I'm so sorry. I… I… Well, I don't really know,' Score admitted quietly. 'What were you reading?'

Albus flushed. 'Oh, nothing of import. I'm glad you're here. I thought you had gone AWOL, and I was insanely worried, you stupid git.'

'Uh, I'm sorry. But I'm fine; I'll be fine. I am sorry, not just for running out, but for… well, you know.' He scrubbed his hands over his face, muffling his words.

'Don't be,' Al mumbled, before saying louder, 'I'm glad you're back,' and pulling him into a hug.

'I am, too,' Score whispered against his friend's shirt, resisting the urge to kiss him; there's a time and a place, and this is neither, he admonishes himself.

After a few minutes, Al breaks the comfortable silence which surrounds the embrace; 'So, want a game of chess?' Score laughs and nods.

…

…

The weekend passed without incident, and it was midweek, the day of the big Quidditch match, that Scorpius woke up early, back aching and feet freezing. Groaning, he rolled over, tugging the sheets over his head, wrapping an arm around the warm body beside him, still sleeping.

'Stop moving around! I'm trying to sleep!'

Or was.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, 'my feet are cold and my back aches like a bitch!'

Al laughs quietly. 'I'm sorry; I went a bit rough on you, didn't I?'

'You can be as rough as you like,' Scorpius winked, relishing in the flush that creeps over Al's bare neck. 'No, but seriously, you didn't need to throw me against the wall quite as hard.'

'Oh, sounds kinky!' commented Caleb from the other side of the room, voice thick with sleep.

'Oh, shut up you dirty bastard!' said Score drily. Caleb just laughed. 'We were talking-'

'You were moaning,' Al interjected.

Scandalized, Scorpius bit Al's shoulder by way of punishment, ignoring the shock sent through his entire body due to the small whimper from Al. Caleb just raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening.

'We were talking about the rather aggressive DADA lesson yesterday.'

'Of course you were. I head your little 'you can be a rough as you like' comment,' laughed Caleb, mocking Scorpius, putting on a deep, sultry voice. 'And you call me a dirty bastard!'

After a few indignant seconds, Scorpius joined in laughing. Even Al, who was not, by any means, a morning person, chuckled, before a yawn split his face in half.

'Aw, little Ally's sleepy!' cooed Caleb, grinning.

'Fuck you,' Al mumbled, rubbing the remaining sleep dust from his eyes, elbowing Scorpius in the ribs as he snickered.

'Nah, you'd like it too much.'

Shocked, Al glared at Caleb, and then at Scorpius as he snorted. 'What is it? Be a Complete Prick to Albus Day or something? I'm going for a shower. Assholes.' And with that he hauled himself out of the bed, thanking the Gods he was wearing boxers, and stalked over to the bathroom, dramatically slamming the door at the sound of the other two boys laughing.

…

…

It was mid-afternoon and bloody freezing, and Scorpius, Al, Rosie, Caleb, Declan and the rest of Hogwarts were sitting in the stands, waiting for the Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw game to begin. It was the last game of the season before the Christmas break, and it was promised to be a good one. A lot of people were betting on Hufflepuff to win – they had been practicing non-stop for weeks and weeks – but that Ravenclaw would catch the Snitch – their Seeker was just better. Some people, like Scorpius, didn't really care who won, he just wanted to watch the game and be with his friends.

He had been, under great supervision, taking the pills to help with his depression, and they seemed to be working. Of course, it had only been a few days, but he had great faith in Madame Pomfrey, and, twice a day, usual at breakfast and then again at dinner, he would got and take the capsules, and he would feel much better for it. He was nicer and calmer and easier to be around, and he felt a lot lighter, too. He was told that he may see some side effects to some of the ingredients – fitful sleep, drowsiness during the day, that sort of thing – but so far he felt fine. He knew it wouldn't all be fixed with a few pills and a bit of wishful thinking – he knew it would take a lot of time and effort – but he now knew he wasn't alone, and he tried to believe he could do this.

He knew he could.

A few minutes later, both teams walked onto the pitch and the stands erupted into cheers and applause. When the game was started, everyone watched in anticipation as Bludgers were dodged and the Quaffle was thrown and points were won. There was cheering and applause and groans of frustration, and then Billy Nickleman was knocked off his broom by a speeding Bludger, but after a ten minute time-out and a thorough checking over, was gallant and well enough to get back on the broom and continue the match.

After an hour, everyone one was freezing and uncomfortable, but was still extremely supportive of the game before them, which seemed to be coming to a close. Both Seekers seemed to have spotted the Snitch simultaneously and were speeding towards it, flat against their brooms. After three attempts from Hufflepuff, the Ravenclaw Seeker, a small girl that Scorpius thought was in his History of Magic class, lurched forward, capturing the Snitch in her hand.

The game was over and, like many predicted, Hufflepuff had won by fifty points, Ravenclaw having captured the Snitch regardless.

The crowd went wild. Score and his friends were jumping up and down, whether to get some feeling into their bodies or because they were genuinely happy were not to be known.

…

…

It was two hours later. Everyone was fed and warmed and Al and Score was cuddled up on a sofa, talking quietly so no one could hear them. Scorpius was rather apprehensive – the incident days before, the one when he had told Al he'd loved him, had not been bought up – but he'd vowed to talk and let people help, so he had to swallow his pride and talk. He had to bring it up.

'I'm sorry about the other day. I shouldn't've said anything. I'm sorry I snapped at you, I just… I-'A shushing finger on his lips shut him up.

'Stop talking. You were ill, and, um, what was it you said? Frail? Well, you were ill and frail and I shouldn't have pushed it. I understand.'

'That's not what I was talking about. Not entirely.' He mumbled against the finger, resisting the urge to lick or bite.

'Oh,' Al frowned. Then realization flickered across his face, 'Oh! You mean about you telling me that you-'

'Don't say it! They might hear.' Scorpius didn't know why Al looked hurt.

'You didn't mean it.' It wasn't a question.

'No! I mean, I did! No, wait! Oh, fuck. I do. I mean, I did. I mean… I meant it, all right!'

'So, you do, or you don't, y' know… the 'L' word me?'

Instead of answering, Scorpius groaned in frustration, pushing Al back against the sofa and pressing their lips together. It wasn't gentle by any means; it was all lips and biting and clashing teeth and it only lasted a few seconds before Rosie and Caleb were squealing and pretending to retch, clutching their stomachs.

'Merlin, guys! Get a room!'

'What an idea,' rasps Al, eyes dark, pupils blown wide with lust, smirking.

Scorpius blinks in shock before he's being dragged upstairs into the dorm, and pushed on the bed. When the door is securely locked, Al joins him.

'I am sor-'

'Stop talking,' Al growls, before kissing Scorpius again, slowly, gently.

The gentleness became firmer and the slowness became faster and shallower and wetter and more clashing of teeth and biting of lips and neck and shoulder. Robes hit the floor followed by shirts and ties and belts, trousers and socks and boxers. Hands roamed and teeth and lips and tongues explored. Sighs became moans and garbled words of 'oh, god yes' and 'please, don't stop!'

…

…

Bodies slick with sweat, fingers coated in come, they laid there, breathing heavy, eyes closed, sated.

'So that was…' Al began when his breathing his calmed along with his pulse.

'Unexpected? Amazing? What I've wanted for a long while?' Scorpius muttered, unable to fight the flush creeping over his speckled-white chest and climbing his neck and cheeks.

'All of the above,' Al laughed.

'It was. Does that answer your question?'

'Mm, for now,' Al mumbled. After casting a quick Scourgify andcleaning them and the he curls into Scorpius' side, happy.

…

…

It was a couple of hours later when Caleb came charging up the stairs and bounced off of the dorm room door, unable to open it. 'Guys! Open this freakin' door, would you? I need my sleep y' know.'

A few seconds later the door swings open and Caleb's senses are harassed with the scent of what can only be described as sex. 'You don't leave much to the imagination, do y'?' he laughed, undressing and climbing into his own bunk.

There was a few minutes silence, enough for breathing to shallow, but not enough to fall asleep completely, before Caleb spoke again.

'Oh, Al! Oh, yeah! Ugh! Oh, oh! Oh, Score, oh!' he mocked, making sloppy smooching noises. 'Really, y' need to learn a few Silencing charms,' he cackled.

'You didn't silence the door?' Scorpius screeched.

'I was a bit preoccupied!'

Caleb just laughed and laughed and laughed.


	11. Chapter Eleven

'It's dark; Merlin is it dark. Where am I? Am I alone? I think I am. Am I dead?

Shit, what's that?

'I've got to be dead. And this is my hell; Eternal darkness and eternally alone. It's hellish enough; couldn't be much worse. But why does my Hell have an incessant drip? And why is it growling?'

Blink. Switch.

'What's going on? Mother? Father?... I can't hear you! … What? Father, what are you doing? Mother… My mother just slapped… What on Earth?'

Blink. Switch.

'What the- No! No… Mother! Don't leave! Mother! What's the hell is going on? Why is Mister MacMillan here? Mother! Why are you kissing… You've been having an affair? With him? How could you do that to us? How could you-'

Blink. Switch.

'-do that? Now what?

'ALBUS! Al, you're… wait. I've been here before. I remember this. No! I don't want to watch! I don't want to see! No!

'There's so much blood. So much blood. It's too much. I can't. I can't face this again. I just can't!'

Blink. Switch.

'Rosie. Two faces. Two routes. Good and bad. Rosie, no, don't go that way!

'It's inevitable. It always is. I want out. I want to get out. I'm not dead. I should have known I wasn't. This is all a dream – that dream – and I will wake up soon. I always wake up. I have to wake up. I have to.

'What's that noise?'

'Scorpius...

'Scorp…

'Scorpius…

'Score…'

…

…

'Scorpius, please! Wake up! You're scaring me!' Albus begged, shaking the blond firmly. 'Come on, Scorpius!'

Score sat up so suddenly he banged his head against Albus', who yelped in pain. The Malfoy was breathing fast and was covered in a cold sweat. His eyes were wide with terror, and he was muttering 'I will wake up. I have to wake up. I always wake up' over and over to himself.

'Score! Are you okay?' Al touched the other boy's shoulder, brow furrowing as he flinched away.

Scorpius sat, gulping air into his lungs, for endless minutes, slight tremors running through his body. When he had calmed down enough to recognize his surroundings, he smiled. It was broken and didn't nearly meet his eyes, and it worried Albus even more, but he had to smile back.

'I'm fine, Al; Just a dream. '

'Well, how have your Mind-Healer sessions been going?'

'Oh, yeah, good; In fact, I think I have one later today.'

'Oh. Well, I'm glad they're okay. Now, let's get you into the shower, you stink!' Al commented, trying to keep his tone light, yet all he wanted to do was cry on Score's behalf.

…

…

After freshening up and a large breakfast accompanied with his daily dose of medication, Scorpius was looking much better, and feeling it too.

'So, it's a Sunday, and my session isn't until after dinner, so what do you want to do?'

'Well, if you have any more sex, remember the Silencing Charms,' Caleb mumbled around half a bite of toast; The entire Slytherin table and few other students listening in, burst into fit of giggles and mocking moans.

After throwing a two-fingered salute Caleb's way, and trying to stop his face from burning, Scorpius said that they weren't going to spend the day fucking – receiving a disapproving tut from Rosie for his foul language.

'I'm sure you have miles of essay to write,' Rosie suggested, looking hopeful.

'Ah, we've got the entire Christmas Break to do that. We break up in two days, give it a rest!'

She just huffed and went back to her breakfast.

'So let's just go into Hogsmeade. I could do with some air anyway,' Scorpius said, looking troubled only for a second before grinning again as everyone agreed.

That was that, then A day in Hogsmeade sounded … normal. And nice. And Scorpius really did need some air; he could feel that blasted dream lurking in the back of his mind, in sight but out of reach.

…

…

It was half six, and Scorpius was stood outside McGonagall's office waiting to be summoned to see his Mind Healer. It was always an agonizing wait, and today it felt worse tenfold, because that dream still hadn't shifter. It was starting to get in his last nerve.

As he started pacing, the door opened and McGonagall walked out, motioning to Scorpius that he could enter.

He walked in cautiously, a she always did; just because this guy was a professional, does not mean he can be trusted. As always his Healer motioned to the chair opposite without looking up, faffing around with his notes and Self Writing Quills and the like.

'So, Mister Malfoy, how are we feeling this week?' he boomed. Scorpius had long learned not to flinch.

'Yeah, not too bad, I suppose.'

'Is that you or the medication talking?'

'Well, probably the medication. You know I always have to take it after dinner, so I'm all dosed up.'

'Have to take it? Mister Malfoy, you know I can only help you if you want to be helped…'

'Yes, I am aware. I was simply saying-'

'I know, I know. And I also know when you are scheduled to take your medication. Now, shall we proceed?' Scorpius nodded. 'How have you been feeling, medical influence aside?'

'Um, well, I had that dream again.'

'Oh? And was it the same?'

'Albus still died, my mother still kills him, and she still cheats with a Hufflepuff, so yeah, it's pretty much the same. But I was more aware…' he adds as an afterthought.

'More aware?'

'Yes; it was like… oh, I don't know. Like I was aware I was dreaming, and I knew what was going to happen next, but I couldn't change it and I couldn't wake up, no matter how hard I tried. Al had to shake me into consciousness.'

'I see,' the Healer mutters, checking a few charts. 'So,' he begins again after a few moments of silence, 'what do you think they convey?'

'What do I what?'

'Your dreams, Mister Malfoy, what do you think they are telling you?'

'Oh. Um, that my mother is a cheating bitch and would like to kill my, uh, kill Albus, and that Rosie is going to be the next evil Overlord and I'm just going to sit back and watch.'

'Exactly.'

'Excuse me?'

'No, I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. But I mean, how can any of that possibly be your fault?'

'Well, if I hadn't pushed mother into taking that job, she would never have met MacMillan and then never have fu- slept with him and our family would still be whole. And Father would be happy and I wouldn't be here talking to you and Al and Rosie wouldn't have to worry.'

'Who's to say she wouldn't have taken the job anyway?'

'I've told you! She was in the fence about it, and I pushed her over; I all but forced her to cheat!'

'Mister Malfoy, I need you to know that this is not your fault! It was your mother's own decision to lay with another man, you couldn't force her to. It was her decision to betray your father and yourself, not yours. None of the lead up to, or the actual divorce itself was your fault, Scorpius. You could not have helped, no matter how much you may have tried, but it was not, and never will be, your fault. I know Astoria put a lot of pressure on you – I believe you told her you didn't want her contacting you anymore? – but you can't be letting her think that it was your fault.'

'She doesn't make me think that, I know that's the problem. If I hadn't pushed, the glass wouldn't have broken.'

'I need you, and you need you, to understand that none of this, of this dream, of your parent's, of the way you feel, is your fault. In order for you to progress you need to understand that. I know you feel like it's your fault, like you deserve to feel the way you do, but you don't. You've come so far since our first session, and this is a big obstacle to overcome, but you are strong enough; you have a lot of support behind you.'

'I appreciate that, and I wouldn't be here if I didn't think there was something wrong with me. I'm sick of feeling like this. I just want my life back!' Scorpius exclaimed.

After more talks of how it's not his fault and how he needs to understand that and how he needs to talk to his father and that he has all the support in the world, blah blah blah. He'd heard it a billion times.

He just wanted better. He wanted everything to be better.


	12. Chapter Twelve

'Hey, is there room in this carriage for a lonely guy like me?' Caleb laughed.

'Sure, come in; where've you been?' Rosie smiled, shifting over to make room for him.

'Oh, y' know… Here and there…'

Al look up from where he and Scorpius sat huddled together, talking in quiet voices, and grinned at Caleb. 'You were harassing the Ravenclaw girls again, weren't you, Cay?'

Caleb looked mock-insulted. 'Me? Harass? I don't even know the meaning of that foul word.'

'How do you know it's-' Caleb shushed Rosie before continuing.

'I wasn't harassing them. I was merely admiring their astounding beauty.'

'There are some pretty long words in that sentence, Cay. Do you need an aspirin?'

'Oh, shut it, will y'? I'll have you know my vocabulary is... uh… well… y' know… fucking amazing.' Everyone laughed.

After a few awkward seconds of silence, Al and Score went back to talking quietly, so Caleb turned to Rosie.

'So, Rosie Posy, what are they nattering on about?'

Rosie looked up from her copy of the Quibbler ('it's a damn sight more informative than that Prophet rubbish', she would say when anyone asked) and regarded Caleb with a raised brow. 'How would I know? Ask them yourself, if you're so interested.'

'Oh, but they look so busy, y' know. Don't wanna stick my beak in where it's not wanted,' he winked.

'So why are you asking me?'

'Jus' trying to make conversation,' he sighed heavily. 'Well, we'll be there soon. I guess I'll go try one last time at, uh… well, yes. Goodbye, Rosie Posy. Goodbye, lovebirds.' He vanished out of the carriage and down the train with a quick wave, not staying to hear Rosie's protest of 'Please don't call me that! It's infuriating'.

...

…

Twenty minutes later the Hogwarts Express had rolled into King's Cross station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and the students clambered off to find their families.

'Albus, I'll see you soon! You are still coming to the Manor on Saturday, aren't you?'

'Yes, of course! Dad will bring me 'round for about eleven. Dad said he needed to talk to your dad about something about work? I don't know.'

Scorpius grinned. 'Okay, good. I'll see you then. Don't forget to write. Goodbye, Rosie. Caleb.' He quickly kissed Albus on the cheek and walked – Malfoy's do not run – to his father, who he had spotted a moment ago, standing alone, looking drawn and pale.

'Father!'

At the sound of his son calling his name, Draco looked up, a small smile on his face, 'Scorpius.'

'Father, how are you?'

'Should I not be asking you that?' Draco's tone was sympathetic, yet firm and it sounded strange; weak, almost.

Scorpius shifted from foot to foot, wringing his hands together. 'I'm fine.'

'Yes, well, shall we go?' Score nodded, allowing his father's hand on his shoulder to steer him through the thinning crowds.

A few moments later they were standing outside the Manor. It still took Scorpius' breath away, more so now that he was barely here, what with attending Hogwarts. The sheer size of their home astounded him. He couldn't help but feel awed. And now, with his mother gone, it would seem even larger.

'Father, have you been living here alone for all these months?'

'Of course; it is my home. It is our home. I'm not going to let Astoria take it away from us. It has belonged to the Malfoy's for centuries. I'm not letting anyone take out home from us, Scorpius. You mustn't worry about it.'

'Of course; isn't it awfully quiet, though? What with you being alone?' Scorpius didn't like this at all.

'I am not alone, Scorpius,' Draco chided quietly, but dropped it at his son's raised eyebrow. 'But now you're home for the next couple of weeks, and I've no doubt you'll be dragging the Potter and Weasley clan around at some point… I'm sure you will provide me with something to do. Besides, I have work to do. Is Potter, is Harry that is, still wanting to talk with me?'

Scorpius hadn't expected his father to know about that. They work together, why wouldn't he know? his mind provided.

'I think so; Albus said Mister Potter was going to drop him off here and needed to talk to you, so I assume so.'

Draco nodded, lightly ruffled Score's hair and then walked towards his rooms, saying he has work to do and Scorpius should occupy himself for a while. Scorpius watched his father walk down the corridor and into his rooms before traipsing off to his own.

He still couldn't believe his mother had left. Though she was only one person, she made all the difference. Scorpius could remember that she used to walk the halls, humming quiet, pleasant tunes to herself, a small smile always gracing her features, effectively making the great, shadowy house seem brighter, less daunting.

Scorpius had never really liked it here. It was his home, of course, and he enjoyed growing up with as much freedom as he had, but it got awfully lonely, even with his parents' home, and it was times like those that he wished he had a brother or a sister to play with, like Albus or Rosie. He wished he could live in a smaller house, where he could see his parent's when he walked around, instead of being the other side of the Manor, not knowing where they were. He wished his mother had allowed him to have friends over, to be a normal young child. But Astoria did not allow his friends over; he was only to see the children of whomever her friends had, usually stuck up, pompous children who took after their stuck up, pompous mothers and fathers. Scorpius never really liked his mother's … associates – they weren't her friends, she didn't have friends – either. And this house only made to remind him of her and them.

Sighing, he sat at his desk, looking out of the large bay windows, thinking.

He was worried for his father, and he still believed it was his entire fault. How could it not have been? If he hadn't insisted Astoria take the job, she wouldn't have met Mister McMillan and wouldn't have found him more appealing than Draco, and they would still be a family; they'd still be together and happy. No matter what his Mind Healer said or did, there would always be a part of him that thought that, whether he disregarded it or not. He couldn't help it.

He cast a quick Tempus charm, noticing that his father would call him for dinner soon, meaning he would be taking his medication (Madame Pomfrey had owled Draco informing him of the procedures of breakfast and dinner, and to keep a keen eye on his son), so perhaps he would feel better soon. Be able to forget his tormenting thoughts until tomorrow.

He was trying, he really was, but it's hard to forget all of that darkness. Medication only helps for a while, pain only helps for a short while, he wanted it to be over. But he could see the light at the end of the tunnel now, and he was stubborn; he wasn't giving up. He'd do this for his father, for Albus and his other friends, if not for himself. He could do this.

…

…

The next three days passed without incident, and before he knew it, Yale, one of few remaining Malfoy house elves was informing him that 'Misters Potter and Potter is being here now', so walked – almost ran, but restrained himself – to the Entrance Hall.

When he saw Albus he grinned and ran over to him, glancing only for a second at his father, and at Mister Potter, before wrapping him in a tight embrace. 'Al! You're here! Come on! Let's leave our fathers to talk. What do you want to do? We can go outside and play Quidditch or…'

Draco watched Scorpius and Al speed off down the north corridor before turning to the elder Potter.

'So, what is it you needed, Potter?' he drawled, walking towards his office.

…

…

'So what did you father want to ask mine?'

'I told you! I don't know. Something about work I think. I think a patient has a funny background, which is preventing them from trying to lift the curse and heal her. I have no idea. Anyway! I came here to hang out with you, not talk about our dads. How have you been keeping? Did you miss me?'

Scorpius just laughed. 'I'm fine. Father's been, you know… helping, giving me my medication and such. And yes, I've missed you. Like you wouldn't believe,' he laughed and turned his face away, hoping Al couldn't see his blush. He wasn't meant to allow himself to be so vulnerable, to be so sensitive. His mother always used to tell him that caring will get him nowhere in life.

She was obviously wrong; look at her now.

'Earth to Score?' Al called, waving his hand in front of Scorpius' face. He blinked, and the shoved Al backwards so he fell on the floor with a quiet oomph. 'What was that for?' he asked, shocked.

Score smirked. 'I thought you'd like being on the floor,' he winked, his smirk growing into a full blown grin as Al cottoned on to his meaning. 'And don't wave your hand in my face. I don't know where it's been! Anyway, get up then; you're making the room look dirty.'

'No, you were right. I quite like it down here. Will you join me?' He laughed.

Scorpius raised his brows. 'I'm not lying on the floor!'

'Fine then…' Al chuckled and before Scorpius could react, he was being pulled onto the floor by his foot.

'Albus! What are you doing? Al, stop it! Al!' Oomph. A few seconds of silence passed before he muttered, 'I hate you.'

'I don't think you do,' Al whispered, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist.

'I really do. That hurt!'

'Yes, I know.' Al remarked, drily. 'But you don't hate me.'

'Don't I?'

'No.'

'How do you know?'

'Because you said it.' Scorpius froze. I'd forgotten about that… 'And you said that you meant it.'

'I, I did. I do.' Scorpius wriggled around until he was facing Albus. 'I do, you know. Mean it, I mean.'

'I do, too.'

'Do what?'

Albus just laughed. 'You're so thick sometimes. I do love you.'

'Oh.' Scorpius didn't know what to do. He couldn't run – he didn't want to run. But he was scared. He was scared his mother would somehow find out and he was scared of being hurt and he was… he was just scared.

'Score?' Al whispered, interrupting his mental panic attack.

'Say it again.' Where did that come from?

'I love you.' Scorpius felt something flicker inside him, some little happy ball of hope or something. He grinned.

'I… I love you too.' Albus caught the hesitation, but smiled nonetheless.

'I'm here for you, you know. I know you don't like talking, but you're getting better. I really think that Mind Healer is helping. I know you probably don't feel all that better and you think this is all a waste of time, but I can see a difference; everyone can. I'm sure even your dad can.'

Scorpius just shrugged, going decidedly pink.

It was then that Yale popped into the room, eyes wide and ears flapping around. 'Master Malfoy is asking for Master Malfoy and Mister Potter in the Entrance Hall,' exclaimed, wringing his hands.

'Okay, Yale, thank you. We'll be right along,' Scorpius said. With a squeak at the expression of gratitude, Yale bobbed his head before leaving again. Score then turned to Al. 'So I suppose you have to leave.' He couldn't help feeling disappointed.

'I guess so,' Al sighed. 'Come here.' He took Scorpius into his arms, resting his head on his shoulder. They could have stood there for hours, or maybe only seconds, but Scorpius knew he shouldn't keep his father waiting, especially if he had spent Merlin-knows-how-long in the presence of Harry Potter – someone of whom he never stopped bitching about.

'We better go,' Score whispered, quickly pressing a shy kiss to Al's lips before dragging him off down the halls.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, both fathers seemed to be arguing.

'You're going to have to use a Stasis Charm and do it that way, Potter.'

'But we're not allowed.' It sounded as though his patience was wearing thin.

'Who cares? If you don't act soon, she will die. You need to lift that curse. I can't do it, I have work to do.'

'And lifting a curse from some poor woman who is likely to die if not enough work? Can you not just help me for once in your life, Malfoy? You do owe it to me.'

Draco just gaped, gray eyes blazing. 'There's a time and a place, Potter, this is neither; besides, I – Oh, good afternoon Scorpius; Albus. I believe you and your father are leaving,' he said, with a very pointed look at Harry.

'We are. Come on, Al. You can see Score soon and can owl him tonight. I'll see you at work, Mal- uh… Draco,' he mumbled. Al sent Scorpius a quick smile before the door shut.

Draco turned to his son. 'How are you?' he inquired, frustration rolling off his in waves.

'I'm okay. Thank you for letting Albus over.'

Draco nodded. 'I need to go and figure out what to do about Missus Harris because Potter is insufferable,' he mumbled, patting Score on the shoulder and walking away, calling behind him, 'Dinner will be ready soon. I'll send Yale and we can talk.'

Scorpius dragged a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling exhausted. Oh, joy; more talking, he thought, heading back towards his rooms.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

'Dinner is being ready, Sir,' Yale squeaked, disturbing Scorpius from his letter writing.

'Okay, Yale, thank you. Tell Father I'll be there in a minute,' he said, not looking up from his parchment. A few seconds later he heard the pop! of the house elf Disapparating and sighed. He signed his name off and sealed the letter, attaching it to his owl's leg; 'Takethis to Albus. Good girl,' he cooed and then sighed again. Time for talking, he thought sullenly, and made his way to the dining room.

Upon arriving, Yale fussed and scampered, making sure the wine was to Draco's liking and the food was up to standard and everything was perfect. Scorpius sat, picking his was through food he couldn't taste, willing his medication to kick in, wallowing in the stony silence of his father. It was agonizing; he just wanted to talk and be done with it. Once he had milked the blood from the stone, you could say, he could go and finish writing to his friends.

It was a few minutes before anyone said anything; a few minutes of silence saving for the quiet chewing and the scraping of cutlery on china. Perhaps, if you were to listen hard, you could hear the house elves working around the manor, but only if you listened hard. Scorpius was just about push his plate away and make his excuses when his father spoke.

'Have I made you think that you can't speak to me if you need me, Scorpius?'

The question caught him off guard, and he paused, fork halfway to his mouth. He placed it carefully back on his place and regarded his father fully. 'No.'

Draco nodded once, curtly, before frowning. 'Then why haven't you spoken to me? I'm your father, Scorpius; you know you can talk to me. But it seems ever since… well, for the past few months, you've been… distancing yourself from me. I just want to know what I've done, or said.'

'You haven't done anything, Father. But how can I talk to you when you're half the problem?' Draco didn't look surprised; he just nodded, dinner forgotten. 'And I have spoken to you.'

'No, you've shouted at me and you've cursed at me, but you haven't spoken to me. I've tried time and again, and you brush me off your shoulder. I know this divorce is dreadful for you, and I know you don't think highly of Astoria-' Scorpius snorted, receiving a look for interrupting, '-but if you don't tell me what's wrong…' Draco seemed to deflate, putting his head in his hands and sighing. Scorpius frowned and stared at his cold potatoes and mash vegetables and congealing meats; He felt a little sick. 'Son, I know this is hard, Merlin, I know. It's hard for everyone. And I know how you feel about your mother – I agree, I must admit – but you need to tell me what is wrong! How do you expect me to help you if-'

'I don't.'

Draco blinked, confused and startled from being interrupted. 'Excuse me? Don't what?'

'I don't expect you to help me,' Score muttered bluntly into his lap.

Draco frowned. 'Well, I'm going to anyway.'

Scorpius looked up, eyes wide and hopeful. 'You will?'

'Of course I will. You're my son, Score, and I love you. I don't say it much, I know, but I do. Did you really think I didn't want to help, that I didn't care?' Scorpius stayed quiet, not trusting his voice to be steady. 'Look, I know how you feel. No, don't look at me like that; I do. You're thinking that when we split up, you're going to have two families, a split life, and, from the little you've told me, and from … what you've been doing … you feel lost and confused and hurt and betrayed. Correct?'

'I hadn't really thought of having a split family… Mother never really cared anyway; she was always at her meetings and parties and sleep- well, you know. But she was never there for me, never cared for me, never-' he cut off, feeling his heart pound and his anger levels rise. Taking deep breaths to calm himself down, he tried again. 'You are right, though, about how I feel. Before when I … when I … when I wasn't coping, I couldn't see that. In my head, it was my fault – everything – and I was drowning in it all. I thought I was alone and I thought I had torn this family apart and I thought… But my Mind Healer, and Madame Pomfrey, and Al and you, you've taught me that it's not my fault and that I'm not alone. I want to be better. I-' he could feel his throat tightening and his eyes sting' I'm not going to cry like some fucking Hufflepuff, he thought.

'You will be, in time. This medication you've been prescribed seems to be working – you seem happier – and this Mind Healer is obviously getting through to you. Time heals all wounds, Scorpius; you'd be wise to remember that. You don't need to tell me all the gory details, or the whys and wherefores – you have your Healer for that -, but I'm not a mind reader; I can't help you if I don't know what I'm helping with. I'll always be here for you, you know that. When this divorce finally goes through and the dust settles, things will become easier, you'll see. You'll be better. I know it. You're a Malfoy, we're nothing if not stubborn, and so if you want to be better, you will be. Just give it time.' Draco ended with a small smile. Scorpius smiled back, feeling better already. He didn't really know, now, what he had said in general – just a load of repeating what he's told everyone else, and a lot of whinging – but he was glad his father knew how he felt, and wanted to help, and that in itself was a weight off of his chest.

'Thank you,' Scorpius said softly, and then laughed as his stomach rumbled. He had barely touched his food, and now it was stone cold. He looked back at his father, and saw that, he, too, was laughing softly, his plate also barely touched. He summoned Yale and in a few minutes they had fresh, hot food on clean plates. Scorpius could taste it this time.

…

…

Scorpius and Draco were sat in the main lounge in front of the roaring fire. Scorpius was reading a letter he received recently from Al, and his father was surrounded by parchment leaves, covered in a neat scrawl of ink telling the story of his patient workload. It was pretty much silent in the room, saving for the crackle of wood and flames and the scratching and crinkling of quill and paper, but it was comfortable. There were few times when Draco would gather his paperwork and move to the lounge and sit with his son, but Scorpius appreciated it all the same. He knew his father was busy with his work – being a Healer was tiresome – and he appreciated the company, talking or not.

After a few more minutes, however, Scorpius had finished reading and replying to his letter, and was becoming increasingly bored. He sat, and he looked around, and he sighed, and he fidgeted, and then he sighed again. And then a thought occurred to him, something his father had said a few weeks ago…

'What did you never get to say thank you for?'

Draco didn't look up, just continued writing as he said, 'What on earth are you on about, Scorpius?'

'When we were in McGonagall's office, when I had…uh…when you needed to talk to me. You started talking about Mister Potter, and you never got to say thank you for something, but you said 'that's a story for another time' and then never told me at another time.' Then Draco did look up from his work to his son, expression blank. Before he could say anything, however, Scorpius started talking again. 'I thought you and Mister Potter hated each other?'

'Hate is a strong word, Scorpius. No, I don't hate him. I have no right to. Not now.'

'What did he do?' Scorpius asked, voice soft.

'Saved my life,' Draco replied, voice turning wistful, as though he wasn't really in the room, but back in the Room of Hidden Things, Fiendfyre licking at his heels as he dangled from the blackened desks, Crabbe gone and Goyle unconscious; as if he could remember the terror and the pain and the heat, and the relief of of the fucking Gryffindors saving his life, of Potter saving his live.

He shook his head as if the memories were spider's webs. The mask of indifference was back, and Scorpius knew he wasn't going to hear the full story. 'He saved my life, and I never said thank you.'

'But you could have done. You've worked with him for years, Father.'

'You don't get much time to stand around for idle chit-chat at Saint Mungo's, Scorpius. It's a rather hectic place, especially in our department.'

'It doesn't take much to say thank you,' he thought to himself; out loud he said, 'Why did you become a Healer?'

'What is this, Scorpius? I became a Healer because I needed to do something. You know who I was when I was you age, what I did. It was awful, and I whole-heartedly regret ever listening to my father. I wanted to make a difference, start again, be my own person, not live in my father's shadow anymore. The Dark Lord was dead, my father was dead, and my mother had run off to live in France. So I worked my arse off and, to my utter amazement, was taken on at Saint Mungo's, and here we are, working ungodly hours with a speccy git in Spell Damage, and my son interrogating me about my every motive,' he finished with a small smile tugging at his lips.

Scorpius smiled back. 'So why does-'

'No,' Draco laughed, 'no more questions. I really need to try and find this Counter Curse; all the other Healers are useless imbeciles and don't know how to read.'

'So how did they become Healers then?'

Draco just looked at his son. 'I was being sarcastic.'

'Oh. I can never really tell with you, Father. You're always so…I'll be quiet now.'

And then the room lapsed into silence again.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

It was Christmas Day and, uncharacteristically for Britain, there was a blanket of pure white, undisturbed snow outside. Scorpius lay in bed, staring out of the window, not wanting to move. Christmas didn't hold promises of family get-togethers and festive fun for the Malfoy family; it never had. December twenty-fifth usually consisted of Yale and a few other elves slaving away, making everything 'perfect for our guests', as Astoria used to say. 'We are a respected pure blood family; high status. Not some shoddy Mudblood clan living in squalor!' she used to squawk. She held Christmas parties for all of her stuck-up friends, and usually banished Scorpius to his room whilst she hung from his father's arm, trying to play the perfect host.

Gifts were never exchanged on the basis that if there was anything you needed or wanted, you could buy it yourself. 'We are pure-blooded and rich' Astoria used to say.

"We do not take charity!' Scorpius mumbled in an impression of his mother, "Especially not from our own family!"

She was only part of the Malfoy family by marriage, but seemed to control it; she was boss, and what she said went. Christmas is not important, respect and popularity is. Throw the swankiest parties and be the perfect host, not sit around a table with family. Heaven forbid that ever happening.

And that was why Scorpius was surprised when Yale appeared at the foot of his bed, saying Draco wanted him in the main lounge, one of the largest and most comfortable rooms in the Manor, where Scorpius and Draco usually sat in comfortable silence in front of the fire, reading letters and doing paperwork.

As he walked through the halls thinking how he wished he could Apparate without splinching himself, he noticed how the portraits were talking to the other past-Malfoys in hushed tones, and try as he might, couldn't pick up the topic of their conversations.

He finally reached the lounge, and the door stood ajar, a soft shaft of light licking the intricately-woven rugs on the highly-polished marble floor. With a confused frown he pushed the door open, stepping into the room. His mouth fell open at what he saw.

The room was alight with what must have been hundreds of twinkling lights and candles. In one corner, beside the large fireplace, was a very big, very real pine tree, expertly decorated in silver and green tinsels and baubles and Fairies dancing along the branches, lighting the tree up. Weak sunlight streamed through the windows and reflected off of the snow outside, making the walls seem to glitter.

His awe heightened as he saw his father step around the tree, wand held aloft, sticking the last of the tinsel up, a small secret smile on his face.

"Father?" Scorpius said, trying not to choke on his surprise. Draco whirled around, obviously having not noticed his son stood shell shocked at the edge of the room, his own surprise evident on his face.

"Score! Um, I was just…well, I was… I just…" It was a rare time when Draco became flustered, and Scorpius found it highly amusing.

"What are you doing?"

"I thought you deserved it. Astoria was out of order, not letting a child celebrate Christmas. Even my father, in his own messed-up way, brought festivity here; At least when I was young. You've never had it, and I thought that, well, you could do with something…cheery after the year we've been through," Draco finished, holding his head high, despite the fine flush to his pale cheeks.

"Oh. Um, thank you. I … Why were you decorating the tree? We have elves for a reason, Father."

"I wanted to do it for you, not have Yale do it. It was, uh, quite fun, actually,' he admitted. Scorpius just stood blinking up at Draco, not knowing what to say. "Lunch will be served in half an hour, so make sure you're decent," he said, regarding his son's current dishevelled just-out-of-bed look. When Score nodded, Draco left the room, leaving Scorpius to marvel at the numerous Fairies twinkling and twirling.

…

…

Half an hour and a hot shower later, Scorpius was sat at the large dining table which was laden with turkey and potatoes and every vegetable under the sun. It was far too much for two people, and it was amazing. The only place he'd ever seen anything remotely Christmassy was at Hogwarts – so much so you could choke in the festive cheer, but he'd never had it at home, so he relished it and absorbed it, taking it home for two weeks.

"Why have you really done this?" Scorpius asked.

'Like I said, I thought you deserved it. I thought you would appreciate it. Astoria isn't here to control us anymore, and I thought we should do Christmas the proper way. I know I'm a pompous bastard, but you're my son, and deserve it. And I like Christmas,' Draco finishes simply, cutting into the turkey on his plate.

'Oh. Thank you,' Scorpius whispered, before cutting into his own food, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

There were a few minutes of silence before there was a loud crash and two voices in an argument. Draco was on his feet in seconds, wand in hand, pointed towards the door.

'I have a right to see my family! Get out of my way, cretin!' came a distinctly female voice. At the sound of it, Scorpius froze and glanced it his father, of who's expression had darkened considerably, lip curling.

'Master Malfoy is not wanting to see you, Miss. You is not being allowed here!' came the squeaky voice of Yale.

'I am going to see my son and my husband, now out of my way!' she demanded, throwing the door to the dining room open. 'Draco! Tell this creature to get out of my way! Tell him, Draco. This is my house, too. You are my family!'

'This is not your house, and you are not a part of this family. You made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with us when…well, you know when. Now get out!'

'Draco, don't be like this. I've made my apologies! I've told you it was a mistake! I'm only human, Draco!'

'You're not human! You're a machine!' Scorpius spat, unable to stop the words. When Astoria heard his voice, she spun around and faced him.

'Scorpius! I-'

'I told you I never wanted to see you again. I'm pretty sure Father has told you the same thing,' he almost hissed, voice cold and hollow.

'I'm your mother! I raised you. I know you! I know-'

'You don't know a thing about me!' he shouted, voice rising with every word. 'You don't know me at all.' He turned and walked from the room, barely refraining from slamming the dining room door. He could already hear his parents shouting behind it.

'I knew she'd somehow manage to ruin today. I knew she'd somehow manage to ruin everything. It's what she does best,' he thought to himself. He stood just outside the room, the sounds of barely-contained shouting reverberating through the door. He rested his head against the cool wall, breathing slowly, trying to calm down. His eyes were prickling and he was shaking, but he would not cry. No, he would not, but slamming his fist into the solid stone wall would suffice, would it not?

Before his brain had processed it, his fist was throbbing madly. He imagined the unmarked wall was his mother's face. It helped, it did. But it certainly didn't suffice. He itched; his body thrummed with pent-up tension. He needed more. He needed a release.

Just relax. You can do it; relax. Breathe and think. You don't need to pain, you just need to relax. Remember what your Mind Healer said; if you can break the cycle, you can break the urge. Cut off the urge, and think, calm yourself.

Breathing deeply, he imagined what his Healer told him to do; imagine all of your problems as tags, and tie them to balloons. Let the balloons go, and watch them float away. It was bollocks, he knew it was, but even as he imagined the colored rubber float away, he felt minutely better. Perhaps he could tie Astoria to a balloon and watch her float away. Wishful thinking.

…

…

'Scorpius?'

'Go away.'

'Please, Scorpius.'

'I said go away, Mother.'

'Please, son.'

'What? What do you want? What could you possible want after all this time? I told you I don't want to see you. Do you know what you've done to this family?'

'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry? You burst in here, and you say sorry? Excuse me if I don't accept your apology.'

'Why did you say I don't know you? Of course I know my own son.'

'No, you don't. You don't know the first thing about me. You've never given a shit about me, or about Father. It was always about you. As long as you were happy and as long as you were invited to parties and gatherings and had Father's money to spend, then all was well. You're the one that fucked MacMillan. You don't know me. You don't care about me. All you care about is you.' Scorpius was shaking again, and he could feel his magic swirling in his bones, trying to push its way out. The lamp on the bedside table was rattling, and the fixtures on the wall were shaking.

'You've been spending too much time with that Potter boy; your language is horrendous.'

'That's exactly it. I haven't been spending too much time with him. I could never spend too much time with him.'

'What are you saying?'

Scorpius regarded his mother with a steady look, however much he was screaming inside. 'I'm saying I love him.'

That shut her up. Astoria looked as though she had been slapped. 'You what?'

'I love him. It's a simple as that. You don't know that; you don't know me.'

'No, you're not. You can't be. Not my son.'

'Maybe you'll leave for good now that your son is a disappointment.' Scorpius wasn't hurt that his mother didn't react with smiles and acceptance; he hadn't expected anything less than rejection.

'It's disgusting and wrong,' she spat.

'And lying with another man whilst you are married isn't? Pot, kettle, black, Mother. Now will you leave?'

Astoria's face twisted into that of rage and stepping forward, she raised her hand. As she was about to swing it, Draco spoke from the doorway.

'If you lay one finger on my son, I will kill you.'

Astoria spun around, dark cloak fanning out around her, her floral perfume filling the air, making Scorpius want to cough. His father's voice made his heart race; how long has he been there?

'You dare threaten me? Your own wife?'

'You are not my wife. We are divorced. You are nothing but the woman who gave birth to my child. You are not his mother, you did not raise him. And I shall threaten you until my face turns blue when you tell my son he is disgusting and intend to hit him. Now I want you to leave; I shan't ask again.

She was not happy, that much was obvious to a blind person, but she got the message eventually and stalked out of the room. A few minutes later, Draco felt the shift in the wards letting him know she had left.

'Are you okay?' he asked, stepping forward, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. 'You're wrong, you know,' he said after a while with no response. 'You are not a disappointment.'

Scorpius looked up at his father, the man who barely showed any affection, who barely talked, who was always busy with work, and in that moment, he felt closer to him that he ever had. 'You heard?'

'I heard.'

'Thank you. For… just thank you.'

Draco nodded, and attempted a smile, but he was weary and his head was pounding from shouting and being shouted at, and he had to be in work at six in the morning tomorrow.

'Merry Christmas, Scorpius.'


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The snow was falling gently, adding to the thick blanket already covering most of the south. Despite the deathly chill in the air, three people remained outside, a heavy Warming Charm surrounding them all. Scorpius and Albus were soaring through the air on their new Nimbus 3000s, fresh-faced, laughing and shouting with glee and they each tried to catch the snitch.

Below them, on the ground, stood their fathers, standing farther apart than perhaps strictly necessary, though they were each smiling at their sons.

It was New Year's Eve, and Scorpius and Albus were staying together at the Manor until the beginning of school in three days' time. Both Draco and Harry had, after much overtime and managing to stabilize Missus Harris, been able to get the New Year's holiday off of work, though no one was holding their breath – Saint Mungo's became increasingly busy over New Year. There was every chance they could get called up.

But for now, they were happy and warm, watching their sons fly around the sky. 'I assume Albus told you,' Draco said, face tilted towards the sky, pale cheeks flushed from the cold.

'Told me what?'

'Still as thick as ever,' Draco mumbled to himself, and then louder, 'About Scorpius and he.'

'Oh, that. Yeah, he told me a while ago,' he replied nonchalantly.

This time Draco did look at him. 'He did?'

'Of course he did,' Harry said, frowning slightly. He looked at Draco and ran his hand through his hair. 'Did Scorpius not tell you?'

'I wouldn't know if he hadn't, you prat. He only told me five days ago,' Draco mumbled, looking back to the sky. Harry thought he sounded somewhat bitter – probably because I knew before he did, stupid git, he thought.

'Merry Christmas to you, Draco,' he said. Draco slapped his arm almost playfully, and then whipped his hand back, as if he'd been burned. His eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights.

Draco's mind reeled. What am I doing? We're not friends. We'll never be friends. Merlin, I've been working with him for too long. I've had to be civil with him for far too long, that's all. I'm becoming a bit soft, but we're not friends. What a horrendous idea.

'Yes, well, at least Astoria is gone now, hopefully for good,' he mumbles after what seems like hours but must've only been a few minutes.

'She was always a vile woman, even at school.'

'You knew her at school? She's two years younger than us.'

'Hello, my name is Harry Potter, also known as the Chosen One, and I know fucking everyone.'

'Yes, well, no need to be sarcastic about it, Potter.'

'Shut it, Malfoy. Besides, now she's gone, you can finalize the divorce, and perhaps Scorpius will get better.'

'He's already getting better,' Draco said defensively. 'I know how to look after my own son.'

'Of course, but you know what I mean. There's no need to jump down my throat.'

'That would be highly unpleasant.'

'You don't say!'

'Yes, well-'

'Would you please stop saying that?'

'What?'

'Yes, well,' Harry said in a high-pitched, overly-snobby impression of Draco.

Draco couldn't help it, he had to laugh. 'I do not sound like that.'

'Yes, well- Oh for fuck's sake, now you've got me doing it. Fuck you, Malfoy, I'm going in.'

'Are you now?'

'Yes. If you weren't so busy insulting my intelligence, you would have noticed there are no teenagers in the sky.'

After a few seconds confusion and refraining from saying that no, there aren't usually teenagers in the sky, Draco realized what Harry meant and looked to the sky where, indeed, there were no teenagers. He looked back towards the Manor and saw them walking slowly, hand in hand, heads close together, talking. 'Well, then I suppose I'll join you.'

Harry laughed and started walking, pausing to throw 'I never thought I'd hear you say that; ever' over his shoulder.

…

…

Scorpius and Albus sat in front of the fire, a game of Wizard's Chess on the space of floor between them. 'Knight to H3. Check,' Albus laughed as Scorpius' piece was obliterated. Scorpius makes his piece move three squares diagonally to his left, and laughs.

'Checkmate,' Scorpius grinned. Albus looked scandalized.

'How did you-?'

'I win again!'

'This is fixed! You've fixed your board! I'm not playing anymore. Cheater!'

'I don't cheat! I play by the rules.'

'No, you do not! You cheat! You're a filthy cheater, and I'm not playing with you anymore.'

'You weren't complaining last night,' Scorpius smirked. Albus went bright red, but the grin on his face told he was only joking.

At the sound of raised voices, Scorpius stood up, and pulled Albus up with him. He motioned with his free hand to follow him, but pulled Albus anyway, so he didn't have a choice.

'...ever did was insult me and my family!'

'That's rich coming from you, Malfoy! 'Riff-raff like the Weasleys', wasn't that what you called my family?'

'The Weasleys' aren't your family.'

'They're as good as!'

'Yes, well-'

'Stop it!' Albus smiled, and knew his father was two seconds away from laughing, just from Score's dad saying two words. 'We can't even argue properly. You're such a twat, Malfoy.'

'Yes, w- It takes one to know one, if what I believe the Muggles say.'

'Hark at you using Muggle sayings. Who have thought?'

'Shut it, Potter. I'm a changed man.'

This time, Harry did laugh, not unpleasantly, not even really mockingly, just laughed. Scorpius took this as the perfect time to walk in. 'Hi, Father. Hello, Mister Potter.'

'Hey, Score. How are you?'

'I'm…okay. I'm okay.' And he was. He wasn't perfect, and he wasn't back to his usual self, but he was getting there, slowly but surely. He really was okay.

'I'm glad.'

'We all are,' said Draco, looking at his son like he was the proudest person on Earth.

'Yes, well…'

'Oh, no,' Harry groaned, putting his hand over his eyes. Draco laughed and Scorpius and Al looked blankly at each other.

'Yeah, we're going now. Come on, Al. Let's leave these lunatics at it.'

…

…

There was ten minutes to midnight, and all four people were in the main living room drinking Fire Whiskey and talking in two separate conversations; The elders about their school years and the war and wondering why exactly they were sat on a cushy red sofa sharing a bottle of Ogden's and actually having a civil conversation outside of work; it was madness; and Al and Score were talking about goodness knows what, heads bent close together, wrapped together in a blanket to keep warm, despite the fire blazing in the grate.

'So,' Harry said, though it sounded more like 'Sho' and interrupted with a rather large yawn, 'there's ten minutes to go; Any last words for this year?'

'I'm glad it's over,' said Scorpius, lifting his head from Al's shoulder sleepily.

'Hear hear,' called Draco. 'This is probably one of the worst years I've had ever since I met you, Potter.'

'Charming. Well, for me, this year hasn't been anything special. I've seen a few mishaps at work and had to save Malfoy's arse a fair few times from the Head, but that's really nothing new.'

'This year has been great, and terrible, and whatever happens next,' Al looks at Scorpius and smiles, 'I'll be fine with that.'

Scorpius smiled back, flushing. I'll be fine with that, too, he thought. I'll be fine no matter what. I'll get better, I'll feel better, and I'll get rid of this weight on my shoulders. Astoria finally gets the picture, and it's wonderful. Father knows that I love Al, and I can finally say it without hesitating or stuttering. I love him. I love Albus Severus Potter. 'I love you,' he whispered, grinning. This is fine, this is good, this is great; this is what I need. As long as I have this – Albus and Father and support – next year will be good. It will be fantastic. I've accepted, and I'm changing and growing stronger, and I will be King! Well, maybe not, but I shall feel like it.

'One minute!' Harry called. He was a loud drunk, was Harry.

Scorpius pulled himself up so he was sitting cross-legged, facing Al. He wrapped his hands around Al's and smiled. 'So I was told about this Muggle tradition about New Year.'

'Auld Lang Syne?'

'What, no? No, that you're doing at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve is what you'll be doing for much of the year.'

'Oh, that old superstition.'

'Yes, well, I just thought…'

Albus blinked, and then smirked. 'Are you propositioning me, Scorpius?'

'What if I was?'

'TEN. NINE. EIGHT. SEVEN. SIX…'

'Then I would say,' Albus said, pausing, pressing his forehead to Score's. Just as Harry, and eventually Draco, got to a very loud 'ONE!', Al pressed his lips to Scorpius', ignoring the crude remarks from his father, and not thinking about the expression on Draco's face. By the time he pulled back, he was sure the kiss was sufficient to fulfil the superstition, and finished his sentence. 'I would say remember the Silencing Charms.'

Yes, Scorpius thought, slapping Albus on the arm and pushing him off of the sofa onto the floor, this is going to be a fantastic year indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was posted on FF.N first, but I thought I'd post it on here, too. Infact, everything on here will also be on FF.N...   
> So anyway, I hope you liked Post Blue. I know the chapters are quite short, and there's probably plot holes gallore, but I hope you liked it anyway.


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